Jack and Jill
by CSI1983
Summary: Five children go missing, all extremely talented and all products of IVF. P/O of course. Sits in the gap between season 4 and season 5
1. Chapter 1

_A/N__ - So I am going with the flow with this one. I want to explore that terrible gap between season 4 and season 5. This chapter is a little slow but I wanted to show the little life they had built together. _

_So read, review and let me know what you think_

_:)_

Chapter One – Complete Me

Olivia twirled her wedding ring, listening to the soft murmur of the television from downstairs. The last year had been a whirlwind of activity, one that she found herself barely recovered from. She had become a wife, a mother and a home owner in a matter of months. And she had loved every single second of it. It had taken them a while to find the perfect house and moving in had not been easy. Peter had gotten more protective as the months passed and by the time they had moved in, he fussed and was determined not to let her lift a hand, aside from instructing the movers of course. But once they were in, it was theirs. Before they had even unpacked all their boxes, it was home.

"Momma."

She felt the short tug on her hair, turning her attention back to little Etta, who was splashing in the bath. Her little girl adored the water. Having gained her mother's attention again, Etta smiled widely and banged her fist into the water. Olivia watched as Etta emptied a plastic bucket of water over her own head, giggling in delight. Olivia laughed with her and took the opportunity to put a spot of shampoo on her fine blonde hair. Etta tried to move away from her mother's hands, trying to get to the plastic duck that had drifted to the lower end of the tub.

"Momma. Car."

Olivia grinned down at her, reaching for the duck.

"Duck. Etta, say duck."

Etta flashed a grin that contained her four teeth. She had inherited her father's smile, which was dangerous. She was a charming enough without it.

"Car."

"Duck."

Etta shook her head.

"Car."

Olivia shook her head back, knowing that this could go on for a while. She handed Etta the duck.

"Duck."

Etta ignored her and thrust the duck into her mouth. Olivia quickly washed out the shampoo and pulled the plug. Etta pouted as she watched the water swirl down the drain.

"No."

Olivia stood, grabbing the towel at her feet and scooping Etta from the tub.

"You can't spend your whole life in the water, Princess."

"Yes."

Etta pressed her face into Olivia's neck, her fingers finding Olivia's hair again, a habit that she had since she was a baby. Olivia hummed softly and walked to Etta's nursery, grabbing her pyjamas before heading downstairs. Peter smiled when they entered the living room, flicking the TV on mute.

"How was the bath?

"Apparently, the duck is a car and our little girl thinks she can live her life in the bath."

Peter laughed as Olivia put Etta into her father's arms.

"I wonder where she picked that up."

"No idea."

Etta squealed as Peter blew a raspberry on her stomach, trying to twist away from his mouth.

"Hey rugrat, stay still."

"No."

Peter laughed again, quickly dressing Etta into her pyjamas. Olivia moved into the kitchen, making Etta's last bottle for the day. When she went back into the living room, Etta was curled into Peter's lap, chatting quietly to him, playing with her toes. Her vocabulary was widening quickly, but in these moments, Olivia didn't understand most of what she would say. Olivia settled herself on the sofa beside them and handed Etta her bottle.

"What are we watching?"

"Nothing much. Once Etta's in bed, I'll make dinner if you like."

"That would be great."

"What do you feel like?"

"No idea. There should be some chicken in the fridge."

"Chicken it is."

Olivia chuckled and pressed a kiss against Peter's shoulder. If someone had told her when she had first met Peter that she would marry him and have a baby, she would have laughed. Never would she have pictured herself like this, married with a daughter and a wonderful husband. She never would have believed that the happiness with Peter could become even more than it was when it was just the two of them. She never would have believed that she could love him more than she did before Etta but every day she loved him more. And every second that she saw him with Etta it deepened again.

"And she's….out."

She glanced down at Etta, the bottle now resting against her chin, her eyes tightly closed.

"She's had a big day."

"A trip to the lab will do that to a girl."

"No, hanging out with Walter, Gene and Astrid will do that to a girl."

Peter grinned as he pressed a kiss to Etta's cheek and handed her over to Olivia. Olivia shifted her from her arms onto her shoulder, Etta's breath hot on her neck. She carefully made her way upstairs and back into Etta's nursery. Etta continued to sleep through the movement as Olivia placed her on the bed, carefully tucking her in. She flicked on the night light that Walter had gifted her, marine life bursting to life and dancing gently across the walls. Etta adored her nightlight and it was fantastic for when she wouldn't settle. Olivia leaned over the crib, and watched the soft rise and fall of Etta's chest, her tiny mouth open in a small 'o'. Her birth hadn't been easy, three days late and sitting the wrong way, Etta hadn't wanted to enter the world without a fight. But when she did, Olivia had fallen in love with her all over again. Now she understood why when it came to Ella, Rachel would rage like a wounded bear. She would give her life for Etta without hesitation.

"Goodnight Princess. Sweet dreams."

Olivia leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Etta's forehead. She left the door open as she slipped from the room, heading back downstairs, where a delicious smell was filling their home. She loved it when Peter cooked. He met her at the bottom of the stairs with a large glass of red wine and a smile.

"Dinner's cooking now, Mrs Bishop."

Olivia leaned forward slightly on the bottom step, capturing his lips with hers. He had been sampling his cooking; she could taste the honey and garlic. She drew back with a smile.

"Tastes good. Smells good too. What are we having?"

Peter took her hand and led her to the kitchen. How she loved her kitchen. All tile and marble, and wide cupboards with a neat island in the middle. It was easy to clean too. With a young child, she appreciated that far more than ever before.

"Chicken pasta with honey and garlic."

"Yum. I love that I married a man who can cook."

"Good to know that you love me for all the right reasons."

Olivia moved behind him as he cooked the pasta, poking him in the ribs.

"I had to keep myself well fed somehow. And my daughter."

"Your daughter huh?"

"Until she hits puberty. Then she's all yours."

Peter laughed and stirred the chicken in the pan. Life was good.

* * *

Etta was the best alarm clock in the world. Not one for screaming and making a scene, she would throw her toys and talk loudly to herself, sometimes calling out for Olivia or Peter. With the nursery right next to their room, they couldn't ignore the demands of their daughter. When Olivia entered the nursery, Etta squealed happily, offering Olivia a bright, pink bear.

"Momma, Harry."

"I know. But Harry likes a sleep-in, remember?"

Olivia took the offered bear and placed it back in the crib, pressing a kiss to Etta's cheek.

"Morning you. Did you sleep well?"

Etta grinned.

"No."

"Good to hear. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Nana."

"Of course."

Etta had a thing for bananas at the moment, she was obsessed with them.

"Should we go see Daddy first?"

Etta nodded and clapped her hands.

"Dada."

Peter was awake but he pretended to be asleep as they came into the room. Olivia held her finger to her lips, beckoning the giggling Etta to be quiet. Then with a quick move, she dropped Etta onto Peter. He grabbed Etta and started to tickle her, rolling her onto Olivia's side of the bed. Taking advantage of Etta's distraction, Olivia headed downstairs to make breakfast. She sipped at her coffee as she made the oatmeal, setting aside a bowl for Etta to cool, putting mashed bananas on top. She heard the chirp of her phone, hoping against hope that their morning would not be interrupted.

"Liv! Broyles for you."

Olivia cursed under her breath as she took the oatmeal off the stove top and moved back up the stairs. Peter handed her the phone before continuing to read to Etta.

"Dunham."

"I hate to interrupt your morning but I need to speak to you."

"Sure. What about?"

"I need you and Peter in my office."

"Is it a Fringe case?"

"I'm not certain. But that's why I need you here."

"Ok. Give me ten minutes. Peter might be a little later."

"That's fine. I'll have coffee waiting."

Broyles hung up and Olivia frowned. For the last six months, she had been in the side lines of most of the cases. Fringe Division was nothing more than tying up loose ends at this point and she was enjoying it. She didn't have to be scared that she wouldn't come home at night.

"You are going to have to call Kathleen. If she's not free, try Rachel."

Peter nodded.

"I'll be there as quick as I can."

"I know. Etta's breakfast is cooling on the bench. There's some oatmeal there for you too."

Olivia quickly stripped off her t-shirt and track pants, pulling on her normal work attire. She was sitting on the end of the bed when she felt Etta crawl up her back, her voice hot in her ear.

"Momma, stay."

Olivia kissed the little hands around her neck before pulling Etta around so she was on her lap.

"Mommy can't stay sweetie. Mommy has to go to work."

Etta frowned deeply.

"No."

"You can stay with Daddy for a while then Kathleen is coming to see you."

At the mention of Kathleen, the frown was replaced with a bright smile. Olivia had known that at some point they would need a nanny for Etta. Even working part time meant placing the care of their little girl into someone else's hands. It had taken a couple of months before they found Kathleen Soris. She came from a large family and was finishing her Master's degree in English. Olivia had liked her immediately. She was well spoken, considerate, and most importantly, her and Etta hit it off immediately. She was coming to the end of her thesis on children's books and she often tested the ones that she wrote on Etta, who enjoyed it thoroughly.

"Lena."

Olivia pressed a kiss to Etta's cheek.

"That's right. Kathleen's coming over. Go get Daddy. Mommy has to put her shoes on."

Etta wriggled off Olivia's lap, crawling across the bed and landing on top of Peter. Olivia tugged on her boots, pulled her hair into a ponytail and grabbed her phone. She gave Etta another kiss before doing the same to Peter.

"I'll see you soon."

"Be careful."

"Always."

She gave Peter another kiss before heading downstairs. She went beneath the staircase and into the small cupboard that she had found when they had first moved in. For now it was the perfect place to hide her gun away from Etta's eager, little hands. She checked to ensure it was loaded before slipping it into her holster and heading out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N - So here is chapter two..._

_Read, review and enjoy_

_:)_

Chapter Two – Anchor Me

The whir of the office was the same, another thing that she had missed. Agents moving in and around each other, offering her smiles. It had been a while since she had been there, generally sticking to the lab or home when it came to paperwork. It allowed her to keep her family first. She made her way to Broyles office, knocking on the door and waiting for permission to enter. When it came, she slipped in, smelling the oak from his desk mixing in with the paperwork and fresh ink. He wordlessly handed her a coffee and a doughnut, watching as she settled herself in a chair. He sipped at his own coffee, an untouched doughnut in front of him.

"How is Etta?"

Olivia smiled.

"Growing quickly. However, there is some confusion between ducks and cars."

Broyles smiled a rare, wide grin.

"Better that than a swear word I guess."

"True."

Olivia finished the doughnut, trying to measure what Broyles was going to tell her. If this case was as urgent as the others, the doughnut and coffee would not be present. She glanced at the files on his desk.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Broyles sighed.

"I'm not sure where this falls exactly. But five children have gone missing in the last few months."

"Kidnapping?"

Broyles shook his head.

"No ransom demands. No bodies. The children have simply disappeared."

"So simple missing persons?"

"Nothing simply about those but there is something else. There is a connection."

Broyles opened a file on his desk.

"Five children, all six years old and all the result of IVF."

Olivia frowned.

"Is that along the same vein as designer babies?"

"Eugenics I believe is the correct term. And IVF is considered a level below it."

"Playing God."

"Precisely."

Peter had fantastic timing. He knocked briefly and entered the room. He helped himself to a coffee from the tray and a doughnut.

"Morning Broyles."

"Peter."

Peter turned to Olivia with a wide smile.

"Kathleen was free."

"Etta would have been happy."

"Deliriously so. I felt distinctly unloved."

Olivia chuckled, waiting for him to take a seat before handing him the file.

"Five six year olds have gone missing in the last few months. Broyles thinks that it has something to do with the fact that they were all designer babies."

Peter whistled low under his breath.

"That's costly."

Olivia frowned.

"How much?"

"It all depends on how many times they had to do it before they got pregnant as well as all the treatments to get them to that point."

Olivia turned back to Broyles.

"The families?"

"Some come from money, others used their entire lifesavings on that one treatment."

"Any of them look suspicious?"

"Not really. I personally interviewed each one of them when this all happened. There was nothing to indicate that any of them had anything to do with it."

"What about the clinic where the children were designed?"

Broyles handed them another file.

"Trualific Science is a small company, limited number of scientists."

"How many?"

"Four with the ability to help transplant the kids."

"Any of them look good for it?"

Broyles frowned.

"Not really. None of them had anything to gain on taking the children. This is why I wanted you in on this. We need to find the link. And I have an idea."

Broyles handed them yet another file, this one thinner. When Olivia flicked it open, the first thing she saw was a picture of a little boy in a suit, his face serious.

"That is Michael Wainwright. He's the sixth designer baby."

Peter smiled slightly.

"Serious looking kid."

"Try child prodigy. This kid is already doing University level papers and he sits on the biggest inheritance in the country."

"How much?"

"We are talking millions. His parents were killed in a car crash four years ago and he lives with his Aunt just outside the city. I met with the Aunt a couple of weeks ago, I didn't like her."

He glanced at Peter.

"I want you to meet her, see if you feel what I do. She controls the money; she gets it if something happens to Michael."

Peter nodded, taking the file on Michael and flicking through it.

"There's something else."

Broyles stood and started pacing.

"Each one of these kids are smart beyond their years, talented in one way or another. One was a painter, a writer and even a mathematician. They all just turned six when they were taken. For some reason, that age is important to whoever took them. I want you to find out all the normal things, what, when, where and why. I want to ensure that this Michael kid is not another victim. He needs to be protected."

"When does he turn six?"

"In two weeks."

"So we have two weeks to find out what is going on?"

Broyles shook his head.

"I know, I hate to set a time limit."

Peter stood, offering Broyles a smile.

"We're on it. Are those the files on the kids?"

Peter pointed to the box sitting on the corner of his desk. Broyles nodded and Peter grabbed the box before turning to Olivia.

"I'll put this in the truck."

Peter slipped from the room and Olivia stood, studying Broyles for a moment.

"What's the catch?"

Broyles frowned.

"Sorry?"

"There's something that you're not telling me."

Broyles paused, offering her a small frown.

"You've been hanging out with Bishop too much."

"Tends to happen when you're married. So are you going to tell me? Why this case?"

Broyles nodded slightly.

"I did the math on this one. You know how likely it is for a child prodigy to be born into the general population?"

Olivia shook her head.

"Incredibly rare. And the fact that there were six born in the same country, let alone from the same lab, is unbelievable. Someone had a hand in this. And I want you to find them."

Olivia examined him for a moment, trying to figure out if there was something else. But she could see his anger and his frustration. The same look that was there every Fringe cases that they ever did. If he was hiding anything else, he didn't show it.

"Fine. I guess we'll be at the lab if you need us."

"Keep in contact."

"Will do."

Olivia took her coffee and left the office, heading back into the parking lot. Peter was waiting by her truck, his face pulled into a frown as he read the file in his hand.

"Penny for your thoughts."

He lifted his head and smiled at her.

"Just reading up on these kids. We are talking some serious intelligence. Check this out. Cassie Jane Burton solved a college level mathematical equation when she was four years old. And Emily Geller was writing poetry at the same age."

"That's fascinating and a little scary."

"I know. I'm feeling a little stupid."

Olivia glanced at the two trucks.

"We should go home and drop the truck off in case Kathleen needs it."

"That was my thinking too. She said she was having trouble with her car."

"Did she say what?"

"No but I told her I would have a look when I could."

"We have a new case, it might be a while."

"Hence my insistence she uses the truck."

Olivia gave Peter a quick kiss as he opened the door for her, closing it carefully behind her. He followed her home. He parked the car in the garage, calling Kathleen while they were in the truck on the way to the lab. When they got there, Walter glanced up, a hopeful look on his face.

"Do we have a case?"

Olivia smiled and placed the box on the edge of the table.

"Kind of. Some missing child prodigies."

Walter nodded slightly.

"Wunderkinds is the Germen term for it. Peter could have been one of those."

"Or not, Walter. I didn't do math until I was slightly older than four."

Walter shrugged.

"You never could see your potential. But it doesn't matter now."

"Why?

"Because you have a beautiful wife and my darling grand-daughter. What more could a man need?"

Walter went back to polishing his test tubes, Astrid smiling beside him. Olivia took the box and with Peter in tow, headed into the depth of Walter's office.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N - Thanks for all the great feedback - Hopefully this lives up to expectations!_

_So read, enjoy and review!_

Chapter Three – Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

By the time they had finished running through the files and making notes, it was heading towards late afternoon. Peter sat back first, his hands folded on the desk.

"As fun as this is, it's time to make a move."

Olivia sighed and removed her glasses.

"And what is your suggestion?"

"We do as Broyles said; we go and meet this Michael Wainwright kid. I'm kind of interested in speaking to him."

"So you're as curious as I am then?"

Peter flashed a grin and stood, getting the coats that they had abandoned on Walter's sofa.

* * *

The Wainwright mansion sat on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by towering gates and high walls. When they approached the gate, Peter pressed the button for the intercom and they waited for a response.

_"Yes?"_

"Agent Dunham and Peter Bishop to see Angela Wainwright."

The gates swung open soundlessly and Peter glanced at Olivia.

"It might be the gates but I have a bad feeling about this."

They drove up the long, pebbled driveway pulling up in front of the house, where a large man in a suit waited for them. Olivia could see by the way he held himself that he carried a gun and she didn't like the fact that she could not see his eyes, which were hidden behind dark glasses. He looked them up and down before he finally spoke.

"Identification please."

They both flashed their I.D's and the man pushed the front door open for them, allowing them to slip past. Another woman was waiting for them, dressed in a maid's uniform. She nodded slightly and moved away from the front door, Olivia and Peter following her. It never seemed to end, the winding corridors and high polished doors. Finally they approached the largest door so far and the maid pushed it open, indicating them to move inside before closing the door behind them. Olivia was always surprised at the way the rich spent their money. Unusual pieces of art were on the walls, masks from foreign countries and dark, leather furniture layered the room. A large bar spread across one side of the room, row after row of fancy bottles that Olivia knew would not come from the local bottle store. Peter whistled low under his breath. She moved closer and looked over his shoulder. He held his hands up higher, revealing a flawless leather, bound book.

"A first edition copy of _Tale of Two Cities_ autographed by Charles Dickens."

"Wow. That must be worth a pretty penny."

"It has been in the family for a while now."

They both turned to find a tallish woman watching them. Olivia could pick people out. Years of being an agent gave her the training that she needed to be able to pick out things that didn't belong. And this woman didn't belong. She was in odds with her environment. She wore the clothes, had her hair done without one strand out of place but she held herself without the authority that seemed to come from money. Olivia glanced at Peter, seeing if he saw the same thing. He did, she could tell by the slight farrowing of his brow. Angela Wainwright moved forward offering them her hand.

"Angela Wainwright."

Her hand was cool in Olivia's, the afternoon sun flicking off the perfectly polished nails.

"May I offer you a cup of tea or coffee?"

"No thank you. We are here in regards to Michael."

Angela nodded slightly.

"Yes, the unfortunate mess with the abductions. As you can see, Michael is completely safe. No one gets in or out of this property without me knowing."

Olivia didn't have the heart to tell her that she had seen lesser men fight their way through more guards than she had. Instead, she nodded slightly.

"Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"Certainly."

"What happened to Michael's parents?"

Angela indicated to a couple of overstuffed chairs positioned just behind them and Olivia took a seat, feeling out of place. She hated how impersonal things felt. Angela went to the bar and poured herself a glass of whiskey before taking a seat across from them. She drank deeply before finally speaking.

"My sister and her husband were killed in a car accident four years ago. Michael and his estate became my responsibility. We have no other family."

"We know that Michael is a designer baby."

Angela shook her head.

"He wasn't designed. He was created in a test tube, that much is true but he wasn't designed. His father and his mother were both very intelligent people."

Peter smiled.

"I would love to say that this is a genetic determination but it is not. The other children, the unfortunate abductions as you called them, were all child prodigies."

Angela smiled as well, this one not reaching her eyes, holding her mouth in a tight, twisted line.

"You say that because you haven't met Michael. He is doing college grade papers and next year will be enrolled in Stanford through one of their elite intelligence programmes."

"The other children were the same. All incredibly advanced and well above the normal standard for children."

Angela frowned.

"Is that why they were taken? Because of their intelligence?"

"We believe so. And it all happened on their sixth birthday."

Angela gasped slightly.

"That's in two weeks."

"Hence the concern for his safety. Michael's safety has become our priority."

Angela spun the large ring around her finger.

"Michael was a miracle. My brother was infertile because of a series of medications and illnesses as a child. My sister-in-law had a hostile womb, according to the specialist. So they put a large chunk of their income into having Michael. He played his first game of chess, beating his father at age one. He spoke long before that, learning to walk and talk months in advance. At three, his I.Q was tested and it sat at 120. I haven't had it tested since but I know it has gotten higher. Would you like to meet him?"

They both nodded and Angela slipped from the room. A few moments later she reappeared, her hand on the small shoulder of a tiny boy. He was small for his age, his back incredibly straight, and his face serious. But it was his eyes that caught Olivia. Large, dark and very sad. This kid was hurting. He extended his small hand.

"Agent Olivia Dunham, it's nice to meet you. I'm Michael Wainwright."

Olivia stooped down, just as she would with any other child, getting on his eye level. She took his hand, her own swallowing his, and shook it, offering him a smile.

"Hi Michael, it nice to meet you. This is-"

"Your husband, Peter Bishop."

Michael offered his hand to Peter, who shook it.

"Hi Michael."

"Hello. You both have impressive records. I was unable to read all the data on you but I have enough to know that you can be trusted."

Peter and Olivia exchanged a glance, one that Michael caught. He cleared his throat.

"I like computers. Hacking into the Federal database was not the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I like to know who is in my home."

Angela placed her hand on Michael's shoulder, her tone hard.

"Michael, don't be rude."

"I paid them both a compliment. That, by definition, is not rude. In fact, it's the opposite."

Peter grinned at Michael.

"Thanks for the compliment. We don't get many of those in our line of work."

Michael studied Peter for a moment, his head cocked slightly.

"I imagine you wouldn't considering not many would know about your division to start with. I'm sure if they knew, more people would pay you compliments."

Michael moved away from the hand of his Aunt and climbed onto the seat. His brain may have been well developed but his body was still that of a child and his legs hung far from the floor. He looked between Olivia and Peter.

"The other children, what happened to them?"

Olivia frowned slightly, wondering just how much she could say.

"Agent Dunham, please do not act as if I don't know. I am aware that others like me have gone missing. As I already stated, I was in the Federal database."

Olivia glanced at Peter, already knowing what she had to do. She could not undermine Michael's intelligence. Normal children could see through the guises of adults, who knew what an incredibly intelligent one saw when an adult lied. And since he could already hack the FBI system, it would be easy for him to find the information in other ways.

"We don't know. However, we intend to find out. You have a link to the other victims."

"What links?"

"Age, intelligence and the scientists who assisted your parents in conceiving you."

Michael nodded. His hand moved of its own accord, fingering a silver chain that Olivia could see near his tie.

"Very well."

"Michael, do you mind looking at these pictures for me?"

"Why?"

"Just to see if you know any of them."

"Certainly."

Olivia opened the file that contained the pictures of all the abducted children, laying them out on the table, facing Michael. He leaned forward, silence falling as he studied them closely, a frown on his face.

"I'm sorry Agent Dunham, but I do not recognise them."

Olivia collected the pictures with a slight smile.

"That's absolutely fine. Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome."

"I will leave a contact phone number with your, so if you do remember anything you can give me a call."

Michael nodded.

"Very well."

Olivia studied Michael while Peter rattled off contact information to Angela. Everything he did, from drinking his water to rubbing his hands together, were very adult movements. He considered and answered the questions with careful balance and consideration. When they finally left the Wainwright house, Peter was wearing a wide smile on his face.

"Broyles was wrong."

"How so?"

"Michael appears to be running the show. He is scarily adult."

"Sitting in that chair was pretty child-like. His legs didn't even make it halfway to the floor."

"I know. You were right by the way."

"How so?"

"Telling him the truth."

"He didn't offer us much choice. Like he said, he can hack into the FBI system."

"It was a matter of respect. I can only guess that no one takes him seriously. You gave him something that I am certain he rarely receives."

"Well, hopefully, that helps if you need him for anything."

"So I had an idea."

"What would that be?"

"It's getting pretty late. How about we go and pay a visit to Trualific Sciences and then head home?"

Olivia smiled.

"I believe that is the best thing you have said all day."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N -With story well on it's way, I feel safe to tell you about the writer's block? Done anyone else get it to the point where there are physical side effects? I always get headaches, I can't eat, can't sleep and get REALLY cranky. This story almost never got written._

_Then I watched a documentry on eugnics and along came Jack and Jill_

_:)_

_So I want to say thank you again for everything. All the reviews have been so positive and encouraging. In exchange, I will try to post a new chapter every second day. The only reason I'm going to do that is to give people a chance to read without falling behind the rest of the people in the know!_

_This chapter is a little longer than normal but I liked the way it flowed and I wanted to keep it all together. _

_So enjoy and review!_

Chapter Four – God Is In The Details

The lab, much like Massive Dynamic, was sparse and cold. It took a while before the receptionist would listen to them, even with the badges and I.D's. Eventually, she insisted that they sit and wait. Peter was getting edgy when a man in a lab coat finally appeared.

"I'm Dr Wyndell James. I was told that you wanted to see me?"

"Yes Sir. I am Agent Olivia Dunham and this is Peter Bishop. We are here to question you about some research that was done a few years ago."

"Certainly. Please come this way."

They followed him down a short corridor and into his office, which was sparse except for a desk, two visitors' chairs and a small bookcase lined with medical journals. He indicated the seats and Olivia and Peter sat down.

"May I offer you both a hot drink?"

"No thank you Sir."

Dr James and took his seat, hands stepled in front of him.

"So, what would you like to know?"

"Six years ago, there were six infants that were developed via test tube."

"Correct."

"We have noticed some anomalies. They all have advanced intelligence."

"That's not possible. Children that are developed via IVF are merely monitored for genetic disorders. That is the point in this facility, to assist those who are not just unable to have infants but to also ensure that any couples with issues in regards with genetics may gain assistance."

"So you don't design children?"

Dr James sat back and frowned.

"You have been poorly informed and influenced by the media, Agent Dunham. The term 'designer baby' was invented by the media and the hype surrounding it is ridiculous. They seem to think that we allow people to come in and chose if their child has blue eyes or brown, a talent for soccer or piano. We don't do that here. Eugenics is a realm that we do not delve into."

"Then how do you explain the other children?"

Dr James shook his head.

"I can only conclude that it was nothing more than a genetic lottery win."

"Perhaps you could explain to us then, why the children that were designed that year have all gone missing."

"You think it has something to do with us?"

"It all comes back to this facility. You are the only link that all the children have in common."

"All the scientists that we have here are dedicated people. They are all good people. None have anything to do with this."

"We need to know who worked on the cases six years ago."

Dr James sighed.

"Fine. But it could take some time. Are you able to come back tomorrow?"

Olivia shook her head.

"We are happy to wait."

Dr James said nothing else, just left the room. Olivia glanced over his desk, but there was nothing personal there. No pictures or trinkets, none of the things that made an office more homely. All the books were in precise and neat order, running down the bookcase by date and time of issue.

"Have you eaten today?"

Olivia raised her eyebrows.

"Sorry?"

"I just heard you stomach rumble. Did you eat anything before you left the house?"

"No."

Peter sighed.

"You were meant to start eating breakfast."

"Stop fussing."

"That's my job. Did you not hear the vows when we got married?"

"Of course I did. Plus, I'm not a fan of oatmeal. I'll eat when we get home."

"That's one thing I like."

"What's that?"

"Going home at a normal person hour, not living in the lab or sleeping in Walter's office."

"See, we are developing good habits."

Peter chuckled.

"Fine, I'll let this one go. But when we get home, I'll make dinner."

Olivia stretched out her legs.

"I wanted to ask Walter to come home with us."

"Why?"

"I wonder if he knows anything about this designer baby business. Perhaps he can provide us with knowledge of something we are missing."

"I don't think he dealt with any of this when he was doing his mad science."

"Perhaps not but aside from you, he's the smartest person I know. Plus, it will make Etta's day to see Walter."

Peter smiled.

"Kathleen and Walter in one day? Etta's head is going to explode."

Olivia nodded, her mind shifting again to the matter at hand. Peter noticed the shift and the smile faded.

"What are you thinking about?"

"The children. I wonder if all this affects them. Surely, there was never a normal childhood there."

"Not likely. From what I read, they were all headed to college."

"What parent would do that?"

"One that wants the best I guess. You can't tell me that if Etta was like that, that you wouldn't make the effort to allow her to reach her potential."

"Of course but I would also insist on the other things too. I feel terrible for Michael. He seemed so sad."

"Losing your parents that age leaves a scar."

Olivia nodded. Michael's eyes, wide and dark were lingering in her mind. He seemed like a sweet kid. Before the conversation could continue, Dr James re-entered the office, a large box in his hands. He handed it to Peter, with a frown.

"I'm certain that you will find nothing of use in these files."

"And if we do, we will be back."

"I'm sure you will."

Olivia and Peter left the office, box in hand. Peter sighed when he climbed into the truck.

"I don't like that guy."

"He's got a God complex. What's there to like?"

* * *

Walter happily accepted the invitation for him to return home with them. When they had finally moved into their new place, they made some arrangements for Walter. They had purchased a state of the art fold out sofa and Peter ensured that there was always a spare change of clothes for Walter at their place. And Olivia made sure that they always had the precise ingredients for Walter's milkshakes and pancakes. There was even a towel that Walter himself had picked for when he came to stay. Before Etta, Walter used to drive Olivia to the end of her patience. Things got better as time passed but it wasn't until Etta was born that she took delight in the true innocence of Walter. He adored their little girl and she became his focus for everything. When she started teething, he developed a teething ring that remained frozen for up to eight hours. When she got sick, he was the one that made little cures. Olivia knew right down to her bones that Walter would never hurt Etta, that like her and Peter, he would happily hand over his life for that little girl. And Etta happily returned the adoration. One of her first words was 'Pop' and she would spend hours chatting to him in her baby language, even more time passing in endless games that only they seemed to understand.

When they finally arrived home, all the paperwork safely in the truck, Olivia could smell the cooking before she had entered the house. Kathleen had been busy.

"We're home."

"In the kitchen."

Olivia followed Kathleen's voice, pausing the doorway to look at the mess. Flour covered the counters, floors and the door of the refrigerator was covered in tiny, floured handprints. And sitting on the counter, also covered in flour, was Etta. She looked like a little snowman. Kathleen smiled slightly.

"You're home early. I was planning to have this all done before you got home."

"Momma!"

Olivia scooped up Etta and pulling her close. Etta tugged at her hair and chatted in her ear, a large smile on her face.

"Hey my darling did you have a good day?"

Etta nodded pointing to the messy kitchen.

"Peza."

Kathleen grinned.

"She can't quite say pizza but she's getting there."

"So that's what smells so good?"

"Yeah. Etta's already eaten and so have I but I thought you guys might like something."

"Something smells good."

Olivia handed Etta to Peter. She smiled down at her once black coat. She dusted off the flour and smiled as Peter seemed to finally take in the state of his daughter.

"Kathleen made pizza."

"Great. This wife of mine hasn't eaten all day."

Walter came wondering into the kitchen, not seeing the mess.

"Pop!"

Again, Etta was shifted into another set of arms, and Walter took her out of the kitchen and into the living room. Olivia could hear them talking.

"I'm really sorry. I was going to have this cleaned up and Etta got into the flour and had a field day."

"It's fine Kathleen, really."

Olivia offered her a smile and helped Kathleen straighten the kitchen, the smell of pizza getting heavier in the air.

"Right, while you ladies do this, I'll take a quick look at your car Kathleen."

"Thanks Peter."

"No problem."

Olivia could hear Peter go into the garage, closing the door behind him. By the time he came back, his hands greasy, the kitchen was clean, the pizza cooling on the bench. Peter cleaned his hands before handing Kathleen a card.

"It looks like issues with the transmission. I think I fixed it but you will need to get it replaced. Call this number and ask for Gus. Only deal with him and tell him that I sent you. He'll give you a good deal."

Kathleen grinned and grabbed her backpack and laptop.

"Thank you. Will you need me tomorrow?"

"If you're free."

"Sure. Have a good night."

"You too. Thanks for dinner."

Kathleen smiled and slipped from the kitchen. Olivia heard her say goodnight to Etta and Walter before the front door opened and closed. A few moments later, Walter appeared in the doorway, Etta in his arms.

"Olivia, dear, this one needs a bath. Do you mind if I do it?"

Olivia smiled. Walter always asked.

"Go for it Walter. She gets a bit upset when she has to get out but just ignore her. Your grand-daughter seems to think she is a mermaid."

Walter frowned.

"There's no such thing as mermaids."

"I know. But she's not completely convinced."

Walter was still frowning as he left and Peter laughed as he started to slice the pizza. Olivia glanced at the ceiling at the sound of Etta's giggles and Walter's voice from the bathroom. She heard the water start to run, a slight creaking from the pipes that ran through the old house. She smiled as Walter upheld a debate over which bubble bath to use and then more giggles from Etta as he undressed her, then of course, came the splashing and the sequels. Peter placed two slices of the pizza on a plate for Olivia. She paused.

"Should we wait for Walter?"

"You need to eat."

Olivia didn't argue, digging into the pizza. It was delicious. And she ate two more slices before Walter reappeared, a sweet smelling Etta in his arms. He was much damper for the experience, looking as if he had gotten into the bath with Etta, fully clothed.

"I picked the yellow pyjamas. She seems to like the ducks."

Etta shook her head.

"Pop, cars."

"No my dear, they are ducks."

Etta shook her head again, frowning slightly.

"Cars."

Olivia laughed.

"You're not going to win this argument Walter. She is convinced that cars are ducks and ducks are cars."

"Why?"

"I have no idea. I'll get her bottle ready. Do you want some pizza Walter? It's really good."

"Yes please."

Peter got another plate for Walter while Olivia got Etta's bottle ready. Walter sat at the kitchen island, eating his pizza while Etta drunk her bottle, her chubby fingers playing with Walter's sweater. Etta was the same with Peter, those big eyes watching the movements of the men that she adored.

"Walter, can I ask your opinion on something?"

"Certainly dear."

"The whole concept of designer babies, what do you think of it?"

Walter snorted.

"You mean eugenics? Disgusting."

"How so?"

Walter shook his head, pressing his cheek to the top of Etta's head.

"Some things should not be toyed with."

Peter nodded.

"I'm with Walter on this one."

"It is good in some ways, Peter. I may detest the concept when it comes to picking the sex of the child, hair colour or physical attributions but in terms of genetic illness, it can be beneficial. Belly felt the same way."

Peter paused mid-bite.

"William Bell did research on this?"

Walter smiled as Etta wrapped her small hand around his finger.

"He was asked to but refused. He believed that it was best left to God. And I agreed with him. I could never wrap my mind around the concept. A child is a blessing, regardless of what their attributes are."

"Is it possible that someone toyed with the mix, so to speak, to make the children talented in different areas?"

"Of course. It would work the same way as it would in a standard situation. By highlighting certain markers, anything is possible."

"But what could someone gain from doing that?"

"Any number of things."

"But how does that benefit anyone?"

"Creation of a perfect individual."

"But there are six kids."

"It does not matter. Six can still equal one my dear."

Olivia smiled as Walter blew a raspberry in the air above Etta's head, making her giggle. She clamped her small hand over Walter's mouth, trying to capture the sound as he repeated the process.

"Walter, when Etta is out, can you go over the files with us? See if you can find anything?"

Walter moved his mouth away from Etta's grasp long enough to answer.

"Certainly dear."

He jiggled Etta gently and they all watched as her eyes got heavier, taking longer to open. All the excitement of having Kathleen and Walter around had worn her out. After a few more minutes Etta finished her bottle and was fast asleep. Walter stood and readjusted Etta gently. He put the empty bottle on the counter and gently wiped a spot of milk off her mouth with his thumb.

"Do you mind if I take her to bed?"

"Sure Walter. Make sure you put her night light on, ok? She loves that thing."

Walter smiled brightly.

"I'm very happy to hear that."

Olivia pressed a kiss to Etta's cheek before looking for the truck keys. She went into the garage and got the files, heading back into the house. Peter had cleared out the kitchen and got a few glasses as she laid out the files on the kitchen table. Peter placed a bottle of whiskey on the table with the glasses before glancing at the stairs.

"You think he's ok up there?"

"He's put her to bed before. I'm more worried that if Etta wakes up, she'll expect entertainment. And Walter will give it to her."

Peter laughed and started going through the files.

"I'll leave the scientists to Walter. We can take the kid's, see if we can find anything relevant."

"Ok."

Peter poured out three glasses of whiskey handing one to Olivia as she started looking through the files. Each of the children had separate talents. Cassie Jane Burton was a mathematician, Emily Geller a writer, James Connerway an artist, Anna Jackson a pianist, Clifton Jordon a scientist and of course Michael Wainwright who was an all-round prodigy. Each child was at extremely high levels in their own talent and were looking forward to a bright future.

"She's fast asleep."

Peter looked up as Walter carefully came down the stairs.

"What took you so long?"

"I was watching her sleep. It was rather fascinating. She's a bit of a kicker."

Olivia laughed.

"We knew that when I was still pregnant with her. I thought I was going to give birth to a black belt."

Walter smiled as he settled himself at the table.

"What would you like me to do?"

"Just look over the files on the scientists and see if you spot anything."

Walter nodded and lowered his head getting to work. A soft hum fell over the house, disturbed only by the sound of shifting papers and re-filling of glasses.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N - Hey folks. Once again, your feedback has been fantastic. I hope that I can keep them going :)_

_I also wanted to say sorry for not posting this sooner. My sister finally had her baby. A little girl, born two weeks early but she got here safely, which is all that matters of course. Ten fingers, ten toes and a mop of black hair. She's a stunner._

_So this is for my new little niece - the first of many I hope._

_Welcome to the world little one, it's a hell of a ride._

_So enjoy and review folks. I do so love know what you all think!_

_:)_

Chapter Five – Bury Me In Your Lies

Olivia smiled as Etta scooped a spoonful of oatmeal, getting more on her cheeks then in her mouth.

"You know, sometimes I think you do that on purpose."

Etta grinned and pointed towards the living room.

"Pop."

"Pop's still sleeping darling. He's tired."

"Ok. Here."

Etta scooped up a spoon of her oatmeal, offering it to Olivia. Olivia grinned, allowing Etta to feed her the oatmeal, wiping her mouth when most of it ended up on her cheek.

"Thank you sweetie."

Etta flashed another smile.

"Ok. Good."

Etta went back to her oatmeal and Olivia sipped on her coffee while she looked over the file that Walter had pointed out to them last night. All of the scientists that the ability but none had a motive. The only reason that Brian Turlock stood out was because he pursed a law suit that left the company more than a little dented. The files never stated why but the company paid out millions of dollars but it definitely gave them a lead. But when Olivia had gone onto the FBI database, she had discovered that Brian Turlock had definitely gone for the quiet life, choosing to teach science at the local high school.

"Hello beautiful ladies."

Peter came into the kitchen, freshly showered and smelling of soap. He gave Etta a quick kiss before leaning over and capturing Olivia's lips with his own. He tasted like toothpaste. He smiled against her mouth as his fingers traced her spine, causing her to shiver. He kissed her again, this time a little harder before finally stepping back.

"You are bad news, Mrs Bishop."

"How so?"

"Very distracting and addictive."

Olivia smiled.

"You might need to join a group for that."

"Dada, here."

Etta offered Peter a spoon of oatmeal, giggling when he rubbed his stomach dramatically.

"Yummy. You better eat up before I get it."

"No."

Peter laughed as he moved away to pour himself a coffee. He glanced at Olivia before putting a couple of slices of bread into the toaster. He took a banana from the fruit basket sat down beside Etta. As soon as she spotted the banana, she was all smiles, her hand extended.

"Nana."

Peter broke it in half, handing one to Etta, who stuffed it in her mouth. When the toast finally popped up, he buttered it and spread on a thick layer of strawberry jam before placing it in front of Olivia.

"Eat, wife of mine. It's going to be a long day."

"What about you?"

"I will be joining my daughter in the joys of oatmeal. Walter is sleeping like a log."

"I think it was the combination of the whiskey and the files. Hopefully, he'll be up soon. I get the feeling we might have to pay Kathleen extra if we leave her alone with him and Etta."

Peter laughed as he put brown sugar and cream into his oatmeal. Olivia ate her toast, handing one of the thick crusts to Etta, who sucked the jam off before smearing it into her left over oatmeal. Messy and fed, Olivia took her up to her bedroom to get cleaned and changed before Kathleen arrived.

* * *

When they arrived at the high school, class was in session. Olivia wanted to go the main office but Peter shook his head at the idea, pointing out a young girl who was making her way out from the school. Peter approached her, wearing his best smile.

"Hi there. Would you be able to help us?"

The girl smiled in return, cocking her hip.

"With what?"

"We're looking for Mr Turlock."

The girl sighed.

"He's boring. And not as cute as you. Are you going to be teaching here?"

Peter chuckled, passing a glance at Olivia.

"No, I'm afraid not. Do you know where his class is?"

"Yes. I can take you there if you like."

"That would be appreciated."

Olivia hung back, allowing them to walk ahead. Peter chatted with the girl easily and Olivia could almost see the charm working. Peter's charm could almost be listed as a deadly weapon. Eventually, they stopped and the girl pointed to the door.

"Here it is. I hope you reconsider teaching here. I get the feeling no one would skip your class."

"Thanks for your help."

The girl smiled widely before moving away from them and heading back out of the high school. Peter knocked and they entered the class room. Brian Turlock was speaking about genetics and the ethics behind them. Pausing mid-sentence when he realised there were new additions to his class. Olivia and Peter hung back until the bell clanged loudly and the kids filed out of the room. Brian Turlock leaned against the blackboard, arms over his chest, watching them until the last kid had left the room.

"And you are?"

"Agent Dunham and Peter Bishop."

"I presume that you have I.D?"

Peter and Olivia moved closer and showed their identification. Brian frowned.

"What do you want?"

"We have a few questions about the lawsuit that you filed five years ago against Trualific Sciences."

"I signed a confidentiality agreement. I'm not that stupid."

"We work for the FBI. Whatever confidentiality agreement you signed does not matter."

Brian sighed.

"Fine."

Peter moved forward, spinning the small globe on Brian's desk.

"Why did you sue?"

Brian sat down in the seat behind his desk.

"My wife and I, we were having trouble conceiving. One of the bonuses of working there was that I was able to get my wife the treatment we needed. They created our daughter. When Katie was born, my wife haemorrhaged and died."

"You sued over her death."

"No. I sued over our daughter Katie."

Olivia frowned.

"Why?"

Brian swallowed heavily.

"You need to understand, I love my daughter very much. But they made the mistake And now we are paying for it. We will be paying for it for the rest of our lives."

"Why?"

"I spent my time there creating children. Beautiful children for people who desired them desperately. And the one time they were meant to return the favour and they failed. My daughter has Down Syndrome."

Olivia flicked through the information she had collected during her pregnancy with Etta. Her doctor had warned her of the risks, the fact that one in every six hundred and ninety-one children are born with the syndrome. She had done research on the disease, mostly scaring herself more than anything thing else. Etta was born perfect obviously but the thought lingered in her mind as Etta grew. She had seen pictures of the children, knew of the mental retardation and limited skills that they were forced to live with.

"How did a child created in a test tube have Down Syndrome?"

Brian shook his head.

"There are great risks with the IVF treatments. The powerful hormones given to women in order to stimulate release of several eggs can loosen the structure of the chromosomes."

"Which causes Down Syndrome. So you sued the company."

"Yes but not for me. If was for Katie. She will need care for the rest of her life. When I am gone, she will keep on living."

Brian studied them. Olivia could see the desperation.

"I love my daughter. You understand that, don't you? I love her."

"We need to look at every angle."

"Is that why you asked me about the lawsuit? Something has happened, hasn't it?

"Five children have gone missing, all of them products of IVF. All of them from your lab around the time that you were employed there. We need to know why."

Brian shook his head, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm not sure what I'm meant to tell you."

"They were all developed while you were working there."

Brian frowned.

"That's why you're here, isn't it? You think I had something to do with it."

"Mr Turlock, we need to look at all angles"

"As you have already said. You really think that I was so angry that I would be willing to take innocent children?"

"Mr Turlock-"

"I was angry with the company. Why would I hurt innocent children?"

Brian moved closer to Olivia but he halted when Peter stepped between them, blocking his path.

"Mr Turlock, take a step back."

When he didn't move, Peter placed a hand on Brian's chest, pushing slightly.

"Now."

Brian, seeming to gather his senses, took a few steps back, breathing heavily. Peter glanced at Olivia who nodded slightly. She glanced over Peter's shoulder to Brian, who was crying silently. She felt sorry for him. She moved around Peter, her hands up slightly.

"We didn't come here to upset you, Mr Turlock. We needed to ask these questions to find these children. Do you know of anyone who may want to hurt them?"

Brian shook his head.

"Not off the top of my head. They were all very dedicated to what they were doing."

Olivia nodded.

"If you think of anything, give me a call."

Brian nodded and shifted back to his seat behind his desk, sitting down hard. They slipped from the room, Olivia already feeling frustrated.

"Ok, so back to square one. We need to go back to the other scientists. Someone knows something."


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N - Thanks for all the feedback and congratualtions. I'm going on a very long trip in a few days to meet my niece for the first time and I can't wait!_

_So read, enjoy and review my friends._

Chapter Six – Dance With The Devil 

Trualific Sciences was busier than it had been on their previous visit. They managed to slip past the receptionist this time and made their own way to Dr James's office. They entered without knocking, finding Dr James behind his desk, his face in a file.

"Dr James, we need to speak to your scientists."

Dr James didn't appear to be surprised to see them, closing the file with a sigh.

"Why? They are busy with the research and I would rather not disturb them."

Olivia stepped around Peter.

"Either you disturb them or we will with a search warrant that will shut down the research for at least forty-eight hours. And that will be only if we find nothing. If we find something suspicious, then we are looking at much, much longer than that."

She caught the flicker of a smile move across Peter's face. He seemed to get an odd kick when she got overtly annoyed and aggressive. Perhaps he really did need help.

"Fine. Can you at least give me a chance to organise the meetings? Some of them are meeting with clients and that is a delicate process as even you may be able to imagine."

Olivia nodded slightly and moved further into the office, making herself comfortable in one of the seats.

"Before you do that, I need your assistance with something."

"What?"

"How is it that Katie Turlock had Down Syndrome?"

Dr James frowned.

"Who?"

"Brian Turlock's daughter was born with Down Syndrome."

"The lawsuit."

"Yes. I was hoping you could explain that for me."

"It is a risk of the IVF procedure. As our lawyer pointed out to Mr Turlock, he would have discovered the Down Syndrome before his daughter was born if he had followed the standard protocol that we recommend. If he had done so, he would have been able to terminate the pregnancy and his wife could have repeated the process."

"That's what you would have suggested?"

"Yes, of course. We stress the importance of this to our clients when they come into the facility. They need to remain vigilant in the pregnancy."

"And how often does this happen?"

"As I said, it is a risk."

"So why did it happen to Katie Turlock?"

Dr James shook his head.

"Agent Dunham, as I said before, this is not a eugenics programme. There are risks and Turlock agreed to them."

Olivia frowned.

"So why settle the lawsuit?"

"It was easier than spending years in court."

"Do you have other cases similar to this?"

"Yes.'

"Then while you are gathering your scientists, I would like you to get those files as well."

"Why?"

"Because unlike Turlock, not everyone would be happy to settle and let this lie."

"Give me a few minutes please."

Dr James passed a look over them before slipping from the room again.

"What's pressed your buttons?"

Olivia shook her head.

"This whole thing irks me. The way he spoke of termination just because a child is born with Down Syndrome."

"I read that research too, Liv. You can see why people would think like that."

"But it's not a terminal disease. It is something you can live with. Multiple Sclerosis I can understand, even removing the link that causes Dementia but something that isn't terminal? I don't understand it."

Peter sighed and took a seat beside her.

"So, I pose a question for you."

"What?"

"What if Etta had been born with Down Syndrome?"

"It would not matter. She's my daughter, in whatever form that she comes in. Walter was right when he said each child is a blessing."

"This has really upset you, hasn't it?"

Olivia frowned.

"Perhaps I shouldn't be on the case. Maybe it's too soon."

"Liv, this is why you need to be on it. Simply because of the way you feel. It makes you able to do this job."

"I know but-"

"You would rather be home with Etta."

At Etta's name, her heart twanged, and her arms ached for her little girl. She wondered if it was normal to miss her this much. She wondered if it was normal that after a year, she still wished to be with her daughter constantly. The last year of quiet had allowed her to miss nothing; she had seen all of her daughter's first milestones. But she never felt complete without Etta there. Peter was one piece of the puzzle and Etta was the rest.

"Wouldn't you?"

Peter took her hand, his thumb grazing her knuckles.

"There is nothing that I would enjoy more than spending endless, easy days with you and Etta. But the fact of the matter is no one else can do our job. And who better to make the world a little bit safer for Etta than her own parents? Plus, I kind of missed you with the gun. I forgot how damn sexy it could be."

Olivia laughed and squeezed his hand in hers. They sat in thoughtful silence until Dr James came back into the room, three other scientists following him. Olivia flicked through her memory, putting the names and faces together as she looked at each of them.

"These are the three scientists that were working with Brian Turlock and were around when the other children were cultivated."

Olivia stood and offered her hand to each of them, Peter doing the same before he moved back and allowed her to take the lead.

"So you all do the same work here?"

"Yes. We all assist in allowing childless couples to achieve the dream of parenthood."

Doctor Marion Chessler was a larger woman, with deep red hair and narrow eyes. She looked uncomfortable and Olivia could see why. Most of the scientists that they dealt with were the same, uncomfortable with normal situations and social interactions.

"Why are we here? I have two clients waiting for me."

Doctor Douglas Stone was the oldest of the scientists and the arrogance in his tone annoyed Olivia. His glasses were perched near his fraying, grey hairline and his mouth was tight with annoyance.

"We have some questions for you in regards to a few of your clients from six years ago."

"You expect us to remember that? We process hundreds of clients every year."

Dr Ramon Howell stood aggressively in the door way, his body vibrating with impatience. She could almost hear the wheels turning in Peter's head as he took each one in, measuring them. He had read the notes as well so knew what he was looking for.

"Yes we do. Because until we know what happened here, we will keep coming back. And it won't stop with us. We will get warrants and there may even be arrests."

She almost felt the shift in the room as the scientists exchanged glances, measuring each other as they took in her words.

"We don't deal with eugenics here."

Peter turned to Dr Howell, his face grim.

"From what I understand, IVF is a very small step from eugenics. How hard would it be for you to pick the best embryos?"

Dr Howell huffed slightly.

"We of course pick the best and healthiest. That is what we are paid to do."

"Yes but is it really that hard to think that you do more than that? Shuffle things around so that a baby has blue eyes and a talent for sport?"

Dr Howell turned to Dr James, his face hard.

"Surely we do not have to stand here and take this abuse."

Peter crossed his arms over his chest.

"I believe you do. And this is how we are going to do it. We are going to talk to each of you separately. And you are going to tell the truth."

Dr Howell opened his mouth to protest, clamping it closed as Peter moved forward.

"I don't care about you scientific pride. I don't care that you are smarting because you think this is an insult. I care about the children that were taken. I care enough to want them to get home safely to their families. Are you telling me that you don't want that too?"

There was a tense silence as Peter waited for his answer. He didn't back down until Dr Howell lowered his eyes, admitting silent defeat. Olivia turned back to Dr James.

"I assume that you have a spare office for us to conduct these interviews."


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N  - So read and review folks! Thank you for the feedback!_

_I live for the odd, little things_

_:)_

Chapter Seven – Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds

Olivia was having trouble keeping her eyes open by the time they made their way back to the truck. It was dark and cold, the sun long gone and the stars high in the sky. Over and the over the questions they had asked were rolling in her mind. They had spent hours trying to seek the truth but none were willing to give it. On the drive home, eyes half closed; she wondered when she had started getting so tried so easily. She used to be able to go days without sleeping. Now, at the end of the day, she slipped into bed with the same gratefulness that she greeted her morning coffee.

"Liv?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't fall asleep in the car. You'll hurt your neck."

"No I won't."

Peter chuckled.

"Yes you will."

Olivia stretched the best she could in the enclosed space.

"It's been a long day."

"I know. I'm feeling it too. I'll run you a hot bath when we get home if you like."

"We have work to do."

"You can spare a few minutes to have a bath."

Olivia said nothing as she watched the shops and street lights whip past as they drove. She could see it thin out the closer they got to home and she felt herself wake up slightly. When they entered their home, Kathleen was on the sofa with Etta, reading to her, the TV making soft sounds mixed with her voice.

"Momma!"

Olivia lifted Etta into her arms and pressed kisses onto her neck. She hadn't had her bath yet and was still dressed in the tiny jeans and sparkly sweater that Olivia had dressed her in earlier that day.

"Hey Peanut. Did you have a good day?"

Etta nodded, pointing to Kathleen.

"Lena."

"I know."

Kathleen smiled and stretched.

"I've written a few more books for my thesis, I was testing them out on her. She has a favourite one. She made me read it to her six times."

Olivia laughed.

"Are there ducks in it by any chance?"

"Of course."

Etta started bouncing in her arms when she spotted Peter.

"Dada! Lena with cars!"

"Is that right?"

"Yes."

Peter laughed, giving his daughter a quick kiss.

"Hi Kathleen. How was she today?"

"Good, as always. Which reminds me, I called Gus."

"Good. Did you tell him I sent you?"

"Yes. I need to go in tomorrow with the car. He said he would give me a new transmission for half the price."

"Happy to hear that. Right, I'm going to go and run a bath."

Kathleen moved past Olivia, making a move into the kitchen.

"We made some cookies. I'm fairly certain that Etta ate her own body weight in the dough."

Olivia chuckled.

"Sounds like Etta. Thanks Kathleen."

"Did you have a good day?"

"Not really. But it's nothing that a hot bath and some cookies can't fix."

"Well, I hope you like peanut butter and chocolate chip. Walter gave me the recipe last night."

"They are fantastic cookies. Has Etta eaten?"

"Yes, we both have. I had better get going. Nick and I have a date tonight."

Kathleen gathered her belongings, giving Etta kiss and snagged a few cookies on her way out the door. Olivia took Etta upstairs, heading into the nursery. She kept Etta on her hip as she fished out pyjamas from the white chest of drawers. Etta chatted softly in her ear before they made their way into the bathroom, which smelt like vanilla. Peter smiled as they walked in.

"The bath was meant for you."

Olivia smiled as she started to undress Etta.

"Killing two birds with one stone."

"If I had known that was the plan, I would have put Etta to bed faster and joined you myself."

Olivia nudged Peter with her shoulder as she carefully placed Etta in the tub. Etta instantly started splashing, smearing the bubbles on her head.

"You, husband of mine, can go and get all that pretty paperwork from the truck."

She started to undress, Peter lingering in the doorway, a small smile on his face.

"I don't know. I get the feeling that you two might need supervision."

Olivia pointed to the door.

"Out."

Peter slid reluctantly from the room and Olivia finished getting undressed and got into the tub with Etta. For the first time all day, she was able to focus on Etta completely. She allowed herself to forget the case and the missing children, the frustrating suspects and the lack of connections. Instead she played with Etta, getting lost in the pure delight of her daughter. Etta had just finished helping Olivia wash her hair when Peter appeared, two large towels in his hand.

"Fresh from the dryer."

Olivia finished washing the shampoo from her hair before focusing on Etta. She soaped Etta up as Etta played with the hotly debated duck.

"So I had a thought."

Peter settled himself on the edge of the tub.

"What's that?"

Peter frowned.

"Do you remember what Walter said about six equalling one?"

"Yes, another great Walter statement that made no sense to me I might add."

Peter chuckled. Etta leaned over, grabbing the edge of the tub to pull herself up. She slapped the duck onto Peter's leg, spraying him with bubbles from the tub.

"Dada, car!"

Etta slipped slightly, landing back into the water with a splash.

"Be careful Etta."

"No."

Peter chuckled and pressed the duck into the water before allowing it to spring to the surface again. Etta squealed and clapped her hands.

"Again."

Peter repeated the process before continuing.

"What if we are looking for a big bad?"

"How so?"

"Think about it. These kid's talents took time to process. I.Q tests, medicals and everything like that."

"So do you think that the fact that they are six is nothing more than a coincidence?"

"I think so."

Olivia nodded slightly.

"Ok. So do you think these kids are nothing more than medical slip ups?"

"Maybe. Except now, someone wants them. And I think Walter had the right idea. Someone wants these kids to something."

"But what?"

"I'm not sure. But if you think about it, it makes sense. Each child had a different talent, different skill sets. The only one without a set talent is Michael."

Olivia frowned.

"And that means what?"

"I did some background on Michael's parents. They were both incredible intelligent. They started their own company just out of college."

"What kind of company?"

"They both had a knack with computers. That's why he's sitting on all that money. Just after they died his Aunt sold the last of the company and put it into a trust fund for him. The house, the land and Michael's education are all paid via an account set up for him when he was born."

"That explains Michael's hacking ability."

"Precisely. So what if he is a natural and the others-"

"Were created."

Peter snapped his fingers.

"Exactly. I did some research and discovered that there are several different definitions of child prodigy. And Michael is a rare breed. Apparently, a child who is gifted in multiple areas occurs one in a million."

"So the likelihood of having six prodigies in one lab-"

"Is completely unlikely. I made dinner by the way."

Olivia smiled.

"What are we having?"

"Italian."

"Sounds good."

"And it was an effort too. I couldn't find the menu in the takeaway drawer."

Olivia laughed and pulled the plug from the tub, handing a protesting Etta to Peter before taking the other towel.

* * *

The house was quiet and still but Olivia remained awake. Even with Peter's idea, there were still so many other things they needed to consider. Anger could be a fantastic motive. There were only four other families that had registered complaints with the company in regards to their children. Olivia still couldn't work out why they paid Turlock off but none of these families. Peter turned in his sleep, mumbling to himself, his hand reaching out to Olivia, coming to rest on her leg. She smiled before turning back to her notes. They needed to see these families. Olivia sighed, gathering the files and putting them on the floor beside the bed. She flicked off the bedside light and snuggled into Peter. She had almost drifted to sleep when she heard the car coming to stop outside the house. It took her only a second to register that the sound of shattering glass was coming from the kitchen. Peter heard it too, sitting up in the bed next to her.

"What was that?"

"I don't know."

Olivia jumped out of bed, grabbing her gun from the top of the wardrobe and heading downstairs. She inched her way down, avoiding the creaky third step that Peter had been promising to fix. She saw the shattered glass in the kitchen before clearing the rest of the house. There was no one there. She flicked on the safety and turned on the light in the kitchen. Peter joined her a moment later, Etta still fast asleep in his arms.

"What is it?"

Olivia glanced under the table, seeing a large rock with a note around it, a simple rubber band holding it in place.

"I don't know. Stay here."

She moved around Peter and opened the front door, standing on the front steps for a moment, looking up and down the street. It was silent and still once again. She moved back into the house, closing the door and securing the locks.

"I'll put Etta back to bed. We need to call Broyles."

"Why?"

"Because this is a warning Liv. I can guarantee it. And whoever did this, knows where we live."

Peter moved back upstairs and Olivia inched her way into the kitchen. The rock had completely shattered the window above the sink, allowing the cool night air to bellow into the kitchen. Olivia tried to step carefully and it wasn't until she had the rock in her hand, turning on her heel, did she realize that she had missed a large piece that hid in the shadows.

"Shit."

Peter re-entered the kitchen in time to hear her curse and see the poll of blood that accompanied it.

"Liv, what are you doing? The rock isn't going anywhere."

Peter had put on some slippers, a bit of an oversight on Olivia's part. Peter scooped her up and placed her on the counter. He handed her a towel to put on her foot before he started sweeping up the glass. Olivia put the towel on her lap rather than her foot, distracted by the rock still clutched in her hand. She carefully took off the rubber band, putting it on the counter before allowing the paper to fall into her hand. It was plain and white, the writing large and blocked.

_**STOP LOOKING. YOU WILL FIND NOTHING BUT TROUBLE**_

Olivia flipped the paper over, trying to find any other clue as to where it may have come from. There wasn't any. She heard Peter's sigh as his hand came to rest on her ankle, examining the sole of her foot.

"Liv, I gave you the towel for a reason."

Olivia held up the paper for Peter to read, his face pulling into a deep frown.

"I'll dress your foot. You need to call Broyles."

He handed her the phone before getting up to get the first aid kit. She was dialling when he returned, the reality finally sinking in. Someone knew where they lived.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N - Hey folk, thanks for all the reviews! I'll post this next chaper because it might be a few days before the next. I am home right now, cramming in as much baby time as I can. She's so tiny...she's like a little doll. I fed her for the first time yesterday and then rocked her to sleep, singing softly, her tiny hand wrapped around my finger. I am completely in love with the little darling_

_I talked to my sister about her daughter's nickname too. I explained to her that with so few rights as an Aunty, I'm giving her a nickname, even if it is just for her and I. So little Selena becomes my sweet little Lenny. Even her Daddy has picked it up now! So maybe, I have more influence than I first thought!_

_But I promise you won't have to wait long - I will keep working on the story tonight once I get home from more baby time!_

_This chapter is slightly shorter than the other's but I promise you, it is worth the effort._

_So keep reading and reviewing folks!_

_I'll try to get the next chapter up in the next couple of days._

Chapter Eight – Fear Is For The Long Night

It was never a question of what Broyles would do. And she expected nothing less. Broyles instantly arranged for an agent to be on their home. Olivia didn't feel all that comforted by the presence of the man, sleep now a long lost idea. She settled in the rocking chair in Etta's room instead, her gun across her lap, her ears open for any sign of intrusion. She could hear Peter in the kitchen, doing goodness knows what, his normal cheerful humming absent. She waited until the sun had risen before calling Kathleen, unsure of what to say. She opted for the truth, explaining to Kathleen the situation. For her credit, Kathleen didn't seem shaken, and despite Olivia's insistence, still insisted on coming and caring for Etta. When she was done with the call, she headed downstairs, grabbed a coffee and went outside to the black car that sat in the driveway. She knocked on the window and waited for it to slide open.

"Good morning Agent Dunham."

"Morning Agent Pritchard. I have a coffee for you."

Agent Pritchard took the coffee with a smile.

"How are you this morning?"

"Fine. Peter and Broyles were the ones that insisted on this detail."

"And fair enough too. It's not just you and Peter, its little Etta too."

She had forgotten that when she had Etta, a month or so after, she had taken Etta into the office. She had wrapped the entire office around her little finger. Every time she went into the office, there were always enquires about Etta, people eager for the update of the little girl.

"Which is what I wanted to talk to you about. Etta's nanny is going to be taking her out today. I want you or whoever is on the detail to go with them."

Agent Pritchard frowned slightly but Olivia continued talking.

"You can clear it with Broyles. I want someone with them today. And I want hourly updates."

Pritchard nodded and Olivia offered him a small smile before moving back into the house. Etta was up and in her high chair, smearing every available surface with banana and soggy cereal. Peter was talking to her but Olivia wasn't listening, her focus on Etta. When a threat came for her and Peter, they could handle it. They were used to it, an almost regular occurrence on their cases. But a threat to Etta was something else entirely. She could feel that protective streak burn her chest. It was hotter than the one that came with protecting Peter or anyone else that she loved. This was endless and consumed her slowly and steadily. Etta burped and it broke Olivia's thoughts, floating back down in time to catch the last of Peter's words.

"…will be in this afternoon to fix it."

Olivia frowned, her gaze finally focusing on her husband.

"Sorry?"

"I said that the glass repairers will be in this afternoon to fix the window. At least it's not too cold today."

"I suppose."

Peter shook his head.

"Did you call Kathleen?"

"Yes. She wants to come anyway. Said that it was important that we finish the case. I just talked to Pritchard. I told him that whoever is on detail today is to go wherever they do. I know that Kathleen wanted to get her car fixed today."

"It can wait."

"No it can't. I'm not going to have it on my conscience if she gets hurt or stranded in the middle of nowhere because her car's transmission finally fails. I would feel better if she gets it fixed."

Peter sighed and sat down at the breakfast bar, a bowl of cereal in front of him.

"Liv, someone knows where we live."

"I am well aware of that. But I refuse to let whoever it is dictate how we live our lives. They will be perfectly safe with whoever Broyles puts on the detail."

"Perhaps we should ask him to reassign the case."

"No. Someone threatened my family and I'm going to find out who it is."

She took the coffee that Peter offered, ignoring the burn as she gripped the side of the mug.

"With or without you."

Olivia ignored his protests and headed back upstairs, planning to shower and get changed. She was angry and she knew that she was taking it out on Peter but she didn't care. She ran the water as hot as possible, allowing it to burn her skin as she gave herself a rough shower. She was getting dressed, shadows of steam still coming off her body, when Peter stepped into the room.

"Kathleen's here. And so is Agent Malcolm."

"He's a good guy. He's covered my back more than once. He's the one that gave us that giant teddy bear for Etta."

Peter nodded and Olivia kept dressing, tugging on her shirt and pants before running a hairbrush through her hair. She never liked it went they argued. It seemed to change the very air around them. And because it didn't happen all that often, it made her feel worse. Debates, yes, heated discussion, all the time but arguments were an entirely different beast.

"You know that everything you do will be with me right?"

Olivia paused and lowered her hairbrush, watching Peter in the mirror. She was the one that snapped at him but it was his face that held the apology.

"I didn't mean it like that Peter."

Peter moved closer, sitting on the edge of the dresser. He leaned forward and pushed a strand of hair off her face, securing it behind her ear.

"We will meet the families of those other kids today. We will find a lead."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do. Because there is always a lead."

Olivia stood, putting her arms around Peter's neck, stooping down to capture his lips. She rested her forehead against his.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"I know. I only apologized because, frankly, you scare me once you get going."

Olivia laughed.

"No one's scared of me."

"Then they are all idiots. You are a force to be reckoned with."

Olivia sighed and leaned into Peter's embrace, closing her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his body and the sound of Etta's giggles from downstairs. Olivia pulled back with a frown.

"What are those two doing down there?"

"Kathleen brought over Operation. And Etta's hitting the sides on purpose. She gets a kick out of it evidently."

"Maybe we'll get home tonight and Etta could give us an anatomy lesson."

Peter laughed and pressed a kiss to her exposed collarbone, sighing as she moved away. He watched her while she did up the last of her buttons. His eyes left sparks on her skin and he didn't know the will power it took to do up those buttons. She had read somewhere that some marriages lost their spark when a child came into the mix. And Olivia had to admit that when Etta was first born, the focus was on her and not their relationship. She thought that that was meant to be that way. Then Etta settled into a routine and they found each other again. And every day, when he looked at her that way, she could remember every touch and every word, her fingers itching to touch him. Even when faced with the darkness of the world, he managed to make her forget. She smiled to herself as Peter pushed himself off the dresser and started getting himself ready, ducking into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When they moved their way back downstairs, Kathleen and Etta were sprawled on the floor, playing Operation. Kathleen, Etta master that she was, had gotten her cleaned up and dressed after the adventures of breakfast. Peter took Kathleen's place on the floor as Olivia indicated the kitchen, Kathleen following her.

"Kathleen, I want to make sure-"

Kathleen smiled.

"It's fine Olivia."

Olivia frowned.

"This isn't your problem Kathleen."

Kathleen shook her head.

"We will be fine. All we are doing to going to get my car fixed, Nick is meeting us at the carnival, and we'll play a few games and then come back here. I'll call you every hour and if at any point there is something to worry about, I will let you know."

Olivia sighed.

"Fine. Every hour, ok?"

"Will do."

Olivia turned on her heel, pausing in the door way.

"There's leftover Italian in the fridge if you get hungry."

Kathleen smiled walked out of the kitchen. Olivia watched as Kathleen returned to her place with Etta on the floor. Olivia leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of Etta's head, running a hand through her soft hair. Etta's laughter was still ringing in her ears as they locked the door behind them.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine – Forgiving The Forgotten

Jaime Clark was a beautiful little girl. And she seemed to take a shine to Peter immediately. As soon as he had sat down, Jaime had jumped onto his lap, showing him pictures that she had done at school, her speech slightly stilted and slow.

"She's a good judge of character."

Sandra Clark watched them with a small smile, her hands wrapped around the mug of coffee that she had made a few minutes before.

"He's very patient with her."

"Peter has a way with people."

Sandra sat back with a sigh.

"So Agent Dunham, what was it you wanted to know?"

"We are investigating Trualific Sciences and your name came up."

"About the IVF?"

"Yes."

Sandra nodded slightly.

"We knew the risks. But they made it sound less than nothing. It wasn't until later that we found out the connection between IVF and Down Syndrome."

"So you followed the protocol?"

"Yes. We went for every scan and every test under the sun. They all came back normal."

"So why didn't you pursue legal action? You could have had a case."

Sandra smiled as she looked at Olivia.

"Because there was no need. My husband and I dreamed of being parents. Jaime made that dream come true."

Sandra glanced at her daughter again and Olivia wondered if she had that same look in her eye when she looked at Etta. Sandra didn't see the Down Syndrome when she looked at Jaime; all she saw was the child that she so desperately wanted.

"People forget Agent Dunham, that Down Syndrome isn't a death sentence. She hasn't got a terminal illness. She will live a full life, a happy life and that is all that matter's to me."

Olivia sat back, watching Peter and Jaime talk, the conversation easy between them. These were the moments that she remembered just how much she loved Peter. Because all he saw was a little girl as well.

* * *

The difference between the Clark family and the West family was that of night and day. Sandra wasn't angry or disappointed, she adored her daughter. But the West's were something else entirely. Anna West had sighed, all elegance and angles, allowing them in, barely glancing at their identification. She lead them into a spacious kitchen where a little girl sat at the counter, her legs swinging in the air, singing to herself as she ate a bowl of fruit. Anna let out a huff of frustration at the sight of her daughter whose face was smeared with strawberries.

"Loretta, wipe your mouth."

Her tone was harsh and Olivia could almost see the happiness flow from the little girl. Her legs stilled, the singing stopping mid-sentence as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

"Not with your sleeve Loretta! Use your napkin."

Olivia saw the tears in Loretta's eyes as she did as she was told, wiping her mouth with the pristine napkin that sat by her bowl. Anna finally turned back to Olivia and Peter.

"So how may I help you?"

"We are investigating Trualific Sciences."

Anna smiled bitterly.

"Ah yes, Loretta's birth. Which was a waste of money by the way. We decided to pursue IVF because of the difficulty we had conceiving Margaret."

Olivia nodded slightly and glanced at Loretta. She was eating her fruit again, in silence this time.

"Is there any reason that you didn't pursue a lawsuit?"

"Our lawyer advised against it."

"Did he give you a reason why?"

"Because they gave us the risks and by the time we realized that Loretta had the retardation, it was pointless."

"Mom, I'm home!"

Anna's smiled turned from bitter to real as her eldest daughter Margaret came bouncing into the room. She threw her backpack on the floor, barely passing a glance at Olivia and Peter before settling herself in a seat beside Loretta.

"Mom, Suzy is having a sleep over this weekend. Can I go?"

"We'll talk about it later Margaret. We have guests right now."

Margaret finally seemed to realize that there were other people in the room, her smile bright.

"Hi."

Peter offered her a small wave.

"Hello."

Olivia watched as Margaret turned her attention to Loretta, who seemed to come to life at the entrance of her sister. They were chatting animatedly while the adults talked, there heads bent together, the words flying thick and fast between them. Olivia caught the patience that Margaret exhibited when Loretta stumbled across a word or struggled to find an explanation.

"Trualific Sciences means nothing to this family."

They stayed for a few more minutes before slipping from the house.

"That poor little girl."

Olivia frowned.

"Sorry?"

"Did you see how Anna was with her? Some people should not have children. And she's one of them."

"I saw how Margaret what with her. Someone's got her back at least."

The silence that sat between them on the way to the next family on the list was a thoughtful one.

* * *

The Marr family was the quietest one despite the large size. Peter and Marie Marr were parents to three children, triplets, all three of whom were sitting quietly on a narrow faded sofa, a large Bible spread out over their laps. Olivia felt like she was in a different world as she took in the crucifixes that were affixed to the walls and the different depictions of Jesus that accompanied them. There was no TV and the large book shelf was lined with religious books and multiple copies of the Bible. Each question was answered in soft measured tones and the children barely glanced up as their parents answered the questions.

"Patricia, Mary and Jolene are blessing from God."

Olivia smiled slightly at Peter Marr's words.

"So you never confronted Trualific Sciences about the issue of their birth?"

Marie shook her head.

"No. We were blessed with three children. Why would we go after the very people that helped us with that?"

"Did you follow the suggested protocol?"

"Of course. However, as their lawyer explained it, with the triplets the tests could be severely affected. The initial scan said that it was one baby before they finally concluded I was carrying three."

Marie laughed slightly.

"One of the great mysteries and challenges that God gives us."

* * *

The Anderson house was run down. It didn't look like anyone had cared about the house for a very long time. When Olivia knocked, she was truly surprised when the door swung open and a young woman frowned at them.

"Hi, I'm Agent Olivia Dunham and this is Peter Bishop. We have a few questions for Chloe Anderson."

The young woman frowned.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why?"

"I'm Rebecca by the way, Chloe is my aunt."

"Rebecca, it's really important that we talk to your aunt."

Rebecca studied them for a moment before stepping out of the way, allowing them into the home. It was neat and tidy but the shades were drawn, casting everything into shadow. The TV was playing softly, a small, hunched figure in front of it.

"Aunt Chloe, there are people here to see you."

There was no response. Olivia moved closer, taking in the woman in front of her. Chloe wasn't there anymore, that was the only way to describe it. Her eyes saw through the movement of the TV, focusing on something else entirely. She was barely breathing, her body thin and frail. She looked much older than she should have. Olivia moved back to Rebecca, who shook her head.

"She's been like that for the last few years. The only reason that she's still here is I refuse to have her put into the Looney bin."

"What happened to her?"

Rebecca frowned.

"My uncle Brian and Mikayla were coming back from day care. A drunk driver went through a red light and wiped out the car. They were both killed instantly. Aunty Chloe blames herself, she was meant to pick up Mikayla. After the accident, she kind of left us. She snapped at the funeral and she hasn't been the same ever since. She barely eats, needs help showering and she doesn't seem to care."

Olivia nodded, glancing at Peter.

"Sorry to have bothered you."

Rebecca frowned.

"What was this about?"

"Just about Mikayla's conception. However, it's obviously redundant now."

"Clearly."

Rebecca showed them out, closing the door quietly behind them. When they got back to the truck, Olivia paused, leaning on hood. She took a deep breath and waited for inspiration to strike. They had picked off the scientists and now the families that may have any issue with Trualific Sciences.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Where is the lead you promised me?"

"Well, we have narrowed it down. That has to count for something right?"

"I suppose it does."

Olivia was about to get into the truck when her phone rang.

"Dunham."

"Dunham, we have a new lead."

Olivia glanced at Peter.

"What's happened?"

Broyles sighed, the sound traveling down the phone line.

"The Wainwright's a got a warning as well. And far less polite than yours."


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N - Thanks for the patience folks...I'm getting there, I promise. I wanted to make sure I was a few chapters ahead of you guys and that meant a few more hours of research, so forgive the lateness of this update._

_I will try to post the next chapter in the next few days. At the moment it is the only thing stopping me from being depressed about Fringe finishing up. I am going to miss my favourite couple. And I hope that they finish it with the respect that it deserves. I have my own theories about how it should end...And I am dying to see if I am right!_

_So read and review folks! And thanks again_

Chapter Ten – The Empty Space Inside The Sun

Michael was sitting in the front yard when they arrived, his legs crossed, and a thick book in front of him. He glanced up then they pulled up the driveway, closing his book, meeting them at the front of the house. When Olivia got out of the tuck, Michael extended his hand to Olivia.

"Hello Agent Dunham."

Olivia offered him a wide smile.

"Hi Michael."

Michael turned to Peter, again offering his hand.

"Mr Bishop."

"Michael."

Peter grinned at Olivia over the seriousness of Michael's greeting. Michael put his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet slightly.

"I believe that Aunt Angela was wrong."

"How so?"

"Despite her determination that we were secure, these individuals have proved that this is not the case."

"What did they do?"

Michael indicated to the house.

"Come and see for yourself."

Olivia and Peter glanced at each other before they followed Michael into the house. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong. But as they moved deeper, it became more apparent what the intruders did. They had trashed the house, over-turning everything in sight. Angela sat in a far corner, a cigarette dangling in her hand, her face shell-shocked. When she saw them, she smiled sheepishly, raising her hand.

"I quit when my brother died."

Michael frowned deeply.

"It's not healthy."

"I'm upset Michael."

"So am I. But I am not slowly filling my body with toxins."

Michael held out a piece of broken vase to his Aunt.

"Put it out please."

Angela took another deep drag before doing as Michael requested. He put the broken vase back on the floor and in a very childlike action, slid on his Aunt's lap, hugging her hard. They sat for a few moments before Michael slid off her lab, rearranging his suit. Olivia glanced at Peter.

"Michael, can you show me the damage to your room?"

"Of course. Follow me."

Peter offered her a slight nod before she followed Michael out of the room. They went down a hallway, where all the pictures were on the floor or skewed on the walls. Michael led her down yet another hallway before stopping outside a heavy oak door.

"It's rather untidy. I do apologize."

"You didn't make the mess Michael."

"I know but politeness dictates that you are assured that I never intended for you to see my room like this."

"Well, in that case, thank you for the warning."

Michael flashed her a small smile, and for a moment, he was a kid. A normal kid that could climb trees and spend the afternoon on his bike in the sun. And then the smile was gone and his serious demeanour shifted back into place. He sighed slightly before pushing the door open. The first thing that Olivia saw was the broken picture frame, the glass shattered and Michael's parents smiling up through the fragments. Without thinking, she scooped it up, carefully taking out the picture and handing it to Michael.

"Be careful with that. It's hard to replace photos."

He took it from her hand and examined it, his shoulders in a hard line, his mouth twitching. He took a deep breath.

"Thank you Agent Dunham."

"Michael, I would really like it if you called me Olivia."

Michael nodded slightly.

"Very well."

She glanced around the room, again seeing evidence that this was not a normal little boy amongst the mess. Books were stacked in every spare space and in a large bookshelf. Her eyes gazed over the titles, all college level at the very least. And the clothes that been over turned from the drawers and wardrobe were not that of a normal child, filled with suits and ties. Olivia saw the small box that was tucked under a small pile of books, moving deeper into the room to pick it up. Michael was by her side, his voice soft.

"They didn't get those."

"What is in here?"

Michael held out his hands and Olivia lowered the box into them. Michael placed it on the bed and carefully opened the lid. Olivia smiled as she looked inside.

"Comic books?"

Michael smiled slightly.

"My Dad collected these when he was my age. He gave these to me. My Aunt had them valued for insurance. They are worth half of what this estate is. As well as this."

Michael's hand disappeared into his shift, pulling out a chain. They were military dog tags, far to long for him, coming to rest against his stomach.

"He gave this to me too."

Olivia sat on the end of the bed, sighing slightly.

"You miss them, don't you?"

"Very much. My Aunt tries but my parents understood me. It makes me feel very alone now that they are gone."

"You need to remember that you are very lucky."

Michael shifted onto the bed beside her, playing with the dog tags.

"How so?"

"You could have ended up in foster care. At least you have someone to care for you."

"I understand that but if I had the options of giving up everything that I have to get them back, I would."

Olivia placed her arm around his shoulders.

"I know. I lost my mother when I was fourteen. It takes a while for the pain to go away."

"How did you do it?"

Olivia frowned.

"I don't know. It helps to focus on things that you are good at, make sure that they are proud of you I guess. And to make sure that you never forget how short life can be."

"I forget that sometimes."

"How short life can be?"

"Yes. And I must admit Olivia, I am more than a little frightened now. The other children were taken and this proves that they can get to us. What happens if they do? What if they hurt my Aunt? What if they hurt me?"

Olivia almost jumped when Michael started to sob and she moved on instinct, pulling Michael onto her lap and holding him close. Her body started to rock on its own accord, just like it did when Etta needed comfort. Michael clung to her, releasing his fear and pain. He was so busy acting like a grown up that he seemed to have forgotten that hurt that comes with losing someone, in being scared of the world around them. Olivia soothed back Michael's hair, smelling the soap and the sweat that lingered there. In a few minutes, the sobs had stopped but he remained on her lap, his face in her shirt, which was now damp from tears.

"Do you remember when I first met you and you said that you read my file?"

Michael nodded slightly, his voice was muffled against her shirt.

"Yes."

"And you said you could trust me?"

"Yes."

"I will protect you Michael. I won't let anyone get to you."

Michael lifted his head, his face read from crying, the tears still lingering in his eyes.

"How can you promise that?"

"I will protect you."

"How?"

"I will catch the people who are doing this. Do you own any other property?"

"My parents have another house not that far from here."

"Then you and your Aunt need to go there."

"But this is my home."

"I know and you can come back when it is safe. But until then, you need to, for lack of a better term, go into hiding. You need to trust me on this."

Michael studied her for a moment.

"Very well."

They stayed that way for a few more moments before heading back downstairs, Michael's small hand in her own.

* * *

Both Peter and Olivia helped Angela and Michael pack what they needed before loading up the truck. They drove in silence, following Michael's instructions. But it didn't take long before Peter nudged her, nodding towards the rear view mirror.

"Grey Sedan, two cars down."

Olivia glanced at the car, watching as it tailed them. As they got to a set of lights, Olivia turned completely in her seat. She couldn't see a license plate or the driver, the windows all heavily tinted.

"We need to shake them."

Peter turned the steering wheel suddenly, taking a sharp left.

"On it."

Olivia pulled out her phone, pressing in Kathleen's number.

"Hello"

"Kathleen, it's Olivia. Where are you?"

"Home. We just got back."

"Is Agent Malcolm still with you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Is everything ok?"

"Yes. The kitchen window is fixed as well. Oh and so is my car."

"Happy to hear it. I'll give you another call soon."

"I'll be waiting. Stay safe."

"I'll definitely keep that in mind."

Olivia ended the call, pressing in another number.

"Agent Malcolm."

"Hey it's Dunham. Everything ok?"

"Yes. All quiet on the Western front."

"Good. Keep me updated."

"Yes Ma'am."

Olivia ended the call and slipped the phone back in her pocket, watching the grey sedan in the rear view mirror. It followed them stubbornly, despite the number of turns that Peter had made. It wasn't hiding now and Olivia could see that there was no license plate, nothing to identify the vehicle at all.

"Stop the truck."

Peter frowned at her, taking another sharp turn.

"Liv, that's not-"

"Stop the truck Peter."

It took Peter a second to obey her instructions and did so with reluctance. As soon as the truck stilled, Olivia took out her gun, flipped off the safety and stepped out. She pointed her gun at the sedan as it came down the road and waited. It paused for a moment before it drove past, increasing speed until it was completely out of sight. She flicked the safety back on, leaning against the truck, relief and adrenaline making her head spin.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N__ - Thanks for the reviews - once again, I hope that you continue to read and enojoy...made a major break through on this story last night. What a twisted little number it has become!_

_Someone questioned the normality that I am trying to inject between the action. So let me explain. I assume that with any case, there will be gaps, moments when things are not on full throttle. I also think that with Etta, Peter and Olivia will never be able to do as they did before, going from case to case with little room for pause. With Etta, they are forced to a stop occasionally, regardless of the case. _

_So yeah..._

_Read and review follks!_

Chapter Eleven – Safety Is Just Danger With Its Shudders Down

She could feel every heavy inch of Peter's looks as they unloaded the few belongings that Angela and Michael had brought with them. He didn't comment on her lack of action, allowing it to linger noisily between them. She didn't need him to speak to know that one of his concerns was the fact that they were followed. If that was the case, than they also had details of the truck. The same truck that they used for personal use as well as for work. Someone knew too much. With Angela and Michael settled, Peter took her hand and pulled her outside, the lush backyard sweet smelling and bright.

"What was that?"

"What?"

Peter frowned.

"They were following us."

Olivia said nothing, choosing to focus on a bird that was fluttering around the backyard. She had hesitated. And she hated herself for it. Worse still, she wasn't sure why she had hesitated.

"Michael told me what you promised."

"It was true."

"I never questioned that. What I wanted to show you was the note that they left. Broyles took the main copy but Angela took a picture with her phone."

Peter pulled out his phone, taking a few minutes to find it before offering it to Olivia. She glanced at the screen, her stomach a hand ball in her throat.

**You Are Not As Safe As You Think. They Can't Help You**

Olivia frowned.

"That's why Michael freaked out. He saw the note."

"Michael freaked out?"

"Yeah. He's still a kid, despite being as overtly gifted one. He's scared."

"He should be. Did you call Broyles?"

"Yes. He's sending someone here to keep as eye on the place until we have this mess figured out. Which we need to do quickly by the way. I get the feeling that Michael will be the next move."

"Well, we need to figure out our own first."

"I know."

Peter moved closer to her, resting an arm around her waist.

"We will wait for the agent and then we will head back to the lab ok? Go over everything that we know. The answers there, I know it."

Olivia nodded, her thoughts with her daughter and the danger that this case had put them all in.

* * *

Still not one hundred percent comfortable with the threat that lingered, Olivia insisted on picking Etta up on the way to the lab sending Kathleen home early. She remained silent in the turck, her hand on Etta's tiny ankle as Peter kept chattering, Etta occasionally joining in. She had called ahead to make sure that Walter got rid of the more dangerous things in the lab so Etta's eager little hands wouldn't find them. She had waved off Walter's excited concern and he hadn't protested. He never did when it came to Etta. When they had arrived at the lab, it was in a delightfully peaceful mode. Walter was sitting behind the piano, singing softly as he played a piece that Olivia didn't recognise, Astrid milling around the lab doing all the small tasks that often got over looked.

"Trid!"

Etta's voice echoed across the lab, breaking the peace as she saw Astrid, her face lighting up. Olivia found it deeply reassuring that Etta had inherited her father's love of people. It was one of his best traits. Astrid smiled back, pulling off her gloves as she got closer.

"Hey Etta! Have you been a good girl today?"

Etta smiled widely again.

"No"

Astrid smiled as she scooped Etta into her arms.

"Sounds about right."

She looked between Peter and Olivia reading the tension between them.

"What happened?"

Olivia sighed.

"The threat has just become bigger. I would feel better if I had Etta close. I hope you don't mind."

Astrid smiled as Etta clapped her hands to the music that Walter was still playing.

"Don't be ridiculous. This little darling is the highlight of my day. Come on Etta, let's go see Pop."

Etta pointed to Walter.

"Pop. Pop boogie."

Olivia watched as Astrid moved Etta closer to Walter. Once close enough, Etta smacked him on the head, giggling with delight at his loud protest. Walter swung around, his face pulled into a frown. It instantly melted when he saw Etta.

"Hello my darling. Come, sit with Pop. We will play the piano."

Etta happily slipped into Walter's lap and started banging on the keys. Olivia always wondered at the infinite patience that Walter had with his grand-daughter, despite the zero tolerance he tended to have for the rest of the world. Peter's hand around her own pulled her back to earth and she let him lead her into Walter's office.

* * *

They spent hours studying the files. When Etta came in, hungry and tired, Peter read her a story, falling asleep about the same time as his daughter. They were both sleeping peacefully, Etta on Peter's chest, just over his heart, a small smile on her face, while Olivia continued roaming through the files. It reminded her of a puzzle that Etta had dropped into the bath. Once it was dried out, it appeared fine. It wasn't until they had tried to put it back together that they realized that the pieces didn't fit together anymore. They had all the pieces but nothing fit. It irritated the hell out of Olivia. She knew it was there, she just didn't know where.

"Sorry Liv."

She raised her eyes slightly, smiling. Peter yawned and rubbed his eyes, trying not to move Etta.

"It's ok. You looked very cute though. You were drooling, Etta was drooling. I almost asked Astrid for a bucket."

Peter chuckled, shifting carefully on the sofa, sitting up in the same move that he shifted Etta onto his shoulder. He paused for a moment to make sure she was still out before moving to the desk.

"Did you find anything?"

Olivia frowned.

"I'm not sure. Something is irritating me."

Peter carefully pulled a seat closer, settling down beside Olivia.

"What?"

Olivia shuffled through the files, trying to find the one that had caught her eye earlier.

"Wyndell James. He interviewed each of the families with a missing child."

"So?"

"He didn't meet all families, normally only a handful over the course of the year. You don't think that it's odd that he met with all six?"

Etta stirred in her sleep and Peter rocked her slightly, stroking her head until she settled again.

"Yeah, it's suspicious, I'll give you that. Anything else pop up?"

"He had stocks in the Wainwright's computer company."

"What! We never saw that before."

"Because we weren't looking. Wainwright's Computing was sold when the Wainwright's died."

"Did he lose anything?"

"No, he was paid out quite nicely. My point was the fact that they had a connection. A big one."

"Ok, so we dig a bit deeper into Wyndell James."

"Exactly."

"Right, but first, we need to get this one to bed. And you need rest too. I'm going to find out what Walter is up to."

Peter carefully slid Etta into Olivia's arms before leaving the office. Olivia rubbed small circles on Etta's back as she kept going over the files, wondering about the motive. What would cause Wyndell James to kidnap five kids, threaten FBI agents and scare the sixth child? And why these kids? Etta stirred, murmuring something in her sleep, her breath hot on Olivia's neck. She shifted in her sleep again before opening her eyes slightly.

"Hey pretty girl."

"Momma."

"I know, we will go home soon. Daddy is just checking on Pop."

"Pop sleep?"

"Not yet."

"K."

Olivia stood and started to rock Etta, waiting for her eyes to close again. She felt that steady burn again, slowly burning her chest and spreading to the rest of her body. If Wyndell James was behind this, the threats and the fear, then she would stop him. And if Peter wasn't nearby, she would inflict some pain of her own.

* * *

Olivia was alone in the kitchen, still searching for the files, trying to find the reason behind Wyndell James and the kidnappings. She needed to sleep, her eyes kept drifting closed before she pulled herself up again. She always laughed when Etta did that but it wasn't so funny when it was happening to her.

"Right, that's enough."

Peter had slipped into the kitchen. He took the coffee from her hand, pouring the rest of the cold brew into the sink before turning back to Olivia.

"Bed."

"I'm fine. What I need-"

"Is to sleep. "

"I can't. Michael, I promised him that he would be safe."

Peter leaned forward and captured her face in his hands.

"Honey, you are no good to anyone without sleep. Please listen to me. Michael is safe tonight and so is Etta. You need to rest."

Olivia studied him for a moment. He was worried, could see it etched in his eyes. He was always worried. About her, about Etta, it didn't matter. And when he had that look, she could refuse him nothing. And it didn't help that she could hear her bed calling her, an inviting whisper that it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

"Ok."

Peter smiled as he released her face and took her hand, tugging her to her feet. She felt sluggish, drunk with exhaustion. She followed him and watched as he checked the front door again, the fourth time that night by her count, before they headed upstairs. She was sleep before her head hit the pillow.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N - Thanks for all the reviews! Once again, you all made my day. I'm starting to wrap up the story now - but reat assured you guys are six chapters behind my writing - you still have much to look forward too!_

_So keep reading and reviewing - let's see if this chapter can take the reviews up to fifity!_

Chapter Twelve – When Tomorrow Is Impossibility

"Walter, I need you to focus."

Walter paused mid-movement, turning to Olivia.

"Sorry dear. What did you ask?"

"What could this person have planned for these kids?"

"It depends."

"Would it be possible to erase those talents? Or transplant them?"

Walter frowned slightly, sitting down, tapping his liquorice on his chin.

"In theory, yes. The human brain is a wonderful thing. You know, it is possible for doctors to remove half of a child's brain and it just makes new connections and paths for them to grow up with? Simply fascinating."

Olivia frowned and felt the beginnings of a migraine hamming away just below her temple.

"You know, Aristotle believed that the centre of thought was the heart, not the brain. He thought that the whole job of the brain was to actually cool the heart. Thank goodness we know better now."

Olivia took a deep breath, releasing it through her nose.

"Walter, what would they need to do?"

Walter shrugged slightly.

"I presume that the procedure would be a simple case of removal."

"How would they do that?"

"Focus on the area of the brain for which the talent stems."

"So, whoever is doing this they would need to know their way around the brain?"

"I would assume that it would be a necessity. For example, for our little piano playing prodigy, that would be located in the cerebellum. For math, it would be the parietal lobe. So yes, that knowledge would be handy to have."

Walter chuckled to himself and turned back to his microscope. Olivia turned on her heel and headed back to the truck. The paranoia beneath her skin was making her itch and every few seconds she was glancing in the rear view mirror. Peter was with Michael waiting for her so that they could go and see Wyndell James. This time, she saw the grey sedan when it was four cars down. She switched route, heading away from the Wainwright's secondary estate. Olivia realized her mistake too late. In protecting Michael, she had driven herself onto a lonely street, with not much traffic. She increased her speed, trying to lose the car by dipping down narrow streets. She flicked on her phone and waited.

"Liv where-"

"The grey sedan is following me."

"Where are you?"

"Ashmore Ave. I'm trying to lose him."

"Stay on the line. I'll call Broyles."

Olivia could hear Peter dialling, his quick breaths and his rushed tones as he briefed Broyles. He hung up, coming back to her.

"He's sending someone now."

"Ok. I can't shake him."

"Same car?"

"Yup. Grey and a suspicious lack of plates."

Olivia was too busy focusing on an escape route that she didn't see that the sedan was almost on top of her until it was too late. The grey sedan increased its speed and rammed her, hard.

"Shit!"

Olivia struggled to gain control, ignoring Peter's questions. She finally got the car under her control but it was too late. The grey sedan rammed her again, hard enough to push her off the road. The last thing she heard was the crunch of metal and Peter's panicked voice begging for her to answer him.

* * *

It was the throbbing pain that woke her. A deep burn that was coming from her right arm. It trampled a steady rhythm from her wrist and up her shoulder. And it was light feathery strokes to her face that made her eyes open, blinking against the bright lights.

"Hey honey."

Peter's face was blurry and it took a few seconds for him to come into focus, a small smile on his face.

"Welcome back."

"What happened?"

"You were pushed off the road. Some agents found you a few minutes after the crash."

Olivia frowned, struggling to sit up. She gritted her teeth to hold back a scream when she tried to put weight on her right arm, falling back against the pillows.

"You broke your arm."

"What?"

"See for yourself."

She looked down, seeing the cast for the first time. That explained the burning and the pain.

"Dammit. Broyles is going to take me off the case now."

"No he's not. I just have to be the gun handler for a while. Six to eight weeks to be precise. And that's just the cast, not the physio that you will need afterwards."

Then the fear hit her, full force.

"Etta."

Peter's hand drifted over her face.

"She's fine. Kathleen has her and an agent has them."

"Ok. Michael?"

"Perfectly safe. Though he's worried about you. I think he has a crush on you."

"Jealous?"

"Nah, I can take him."

Olivia sighed and closed her eyes.

"I let them push me into a quiet street. I let them get me alone."

"All that matters is that you are safe."

"All this does is make me angry."

"I know. Me too."

Olivia eased herself into a sitting position again, mentally going over her body. She had a vague pain across her chest, from the seat belt she presumed but other than the arm, she felt fine.

"Can I got home?"

"In a little bit. They are organising you some pain relief for us to take home."

"What did Broyles say?"

"His main concern was that you were ok. And as soon as you are in the clear, he's given us full permission to go and see Wyndell James again."

"Good. I don't want this to lie just because of this. We need to find those kids. I was talking to Walter and he said that it is completely possible to remove parts of the brain. Whoever is doing this could be literally taking the talents from these kids."

"So they will be preforming brain surgery? On children?"

"Yes. So we are looking for someone with the knowledge of the human brain."

"That could be any of our scientists. After all, you need to do biology to get any kind of medical license."

"That's what I thought too. But Wyndell James is the first on the hit list simply because of the connection to the Wainwrights. It's the only solid thing we have."

Peter nodded, allowing her to continue her musings while he fussed over her blankets. Eventually, her flow stilted and she sighed.

"I'm fine Peter. But I could do with that pain medication so we can get back to work."

Peter leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss, sliding out of the room with a smile. He was back a few minutes later, a glass of water in one hand, a small collection of pills in the other.

"These should help. Take them and then we can get out of here. I told them we had to leave before you lost your patience."

"Do you have some for later?"

Peter patted his pocket.

"And a prescription for more if you need them."

Olivia smiled before popping the pills, pushing them down with the cold water. She stayed in bed, watching as Peter started gathering her belongings, putting her clothes on the end of the bed so she could change. It took her longer than normal, thanks to the club that was now attached to her arm. It wasn't until they were halfway home that she started to feel strange. The world took on an incredibly colourful hue, pulling and stretching, moving slower and faster all at the same time.

"Peter?"

"Yes, wife of mine?"

"What were those pills?"

"Painkillers."

"Were they sedatives?"

Peter said nothing and Olivia closed her eyes with a sigh, her sluggish brain finally understanding Peter's master plan. He was putting her in the backseat for this part of the case. He had done it on purpose. Her own husband had drugged her.

"It was a bad break, Liv. You need to rest."

"The case."

"I can take care of this part. All I need to do is check in with Wyndell James. Broyles has already agreed to come with me."

Olivia opened her mouth to protest but her mouth no longer seemed attached to her brain, the words stalling somewhere in her chest. All she managed was a slight grunt of protest.

"Liv, it will be fine. I promise."

Olivia leaned her head against the frame of the door, her eyes getting heavier and heavier. She fought the drugs, escaping their colourful grasp every time they tried to pull her under. Peter helped her from the truck, chuckling to himself as she failed to find her feet. He half carried her, half dragged her to the door, his voice echoing oddly in her head as he announced their arrival to Kathleen and Etta. He helped her up the stairs and into bed, tugging off her boots before tucking her in. She watched through half-closed eyes as he moved into the bathroom, filling a glass of water and placing it on the bedside table. He sat on the edge of the bed, playing with a strand of her hair.

"You can be angry with me later, when you have had a rest."

Olivia had the perfect threat in her head, but settled for hitting him lightly instead, her hand coming to rest on his leg.

"I love you. I'll be careful and I will call you in a couple of hours ok?"

He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss before leaving the room. Olivia tried to keep fighting the drugs but they won, entwining her into a colourful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

When she woke up, the sun was fading and her throat was painfully dry. She gulped down the water before sitting up fully in bed, listening. She could hear Etta and Kathleen downstairs in the kitchen, Etta's chatter travelling cheerfully up the stairs. She moved carefully out of the bed and got changed; opting for one of Peter's sweater's over her own, pulling the sleeve over the cast to rest on her elbow. She waited for the pain as she carefully moved her hand, seeing how far she could push it before the throbbing started again. The painkillers were still doing their job, the pain soft and distant. She finally headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Etta was sitting on the counter, watching as Kathleen cut up some fruit, her face smeared with banana.

"Momma."

"Hey sweetie."

When Olivia got closer, Etta frowned, her small hand coming to rest on the cast.

"Momma has a booboo."

Olivia placed a kiss on her head.

"Yes, Momma has a booboo."

Etta offered Olivia a piece of banana, which she took, leaning on the counter.

"So are you ok?"

Kathleen's eyes flicked over the cast and the small bump on Olivia's head that she had just noticed earlier in the bathroom. It was nothing, a mere drop in the long list of injuries that she had gotten doing this job, but for Kathleen, the injuries were all new and concerning.

"I'm fine. Apart from the fact my husband drugged me and is out there pursuing a potentially dangerous suspect without me."

Kathleen nodded slightly, slicing up some kiwifruit before scooping Etta off the counter and settling her into the highchair, placing the bowl of fruit in front of her.

"He called why you were sleeping."

Kathleen glanced at her watch.

"He will be calling again soon. He said he had some news for you."

The phone started ringing and Olivia scooped it up from the cradle, not bothering with the niceties.

"Peter?"

"Hey Liv, feeling better?"

"No. What's the news?"

"Dr Wyndell James is not a suspect."

Olivia took the phone into the living room, curling into the sofa.

"How so?"

"He's dead."

"What?"

"It looks like he killed himself. He didn't leave a note."

"Definitely suicide?"

"Broyles seems pretty convinced. And his office and apartment were completely trashed. Some of the files from his office were missing and Broyles is working through the apartment now, trying to see if anything else is gone."

"Shit."

"Not what I said. I'm going to head off to see Michael in a few minutes and then I'll come home. As long as I'm allowed home that is."

Olivia sighed.

"You tricked me."

"I had too. You would never have taken those pills otherwise. You needed to rest. How is the arm now?"

Olivia extended her fingers, moving them around slightly.

"It seems fine. And to make it up to me, when this case is over, you are making me dinner. A fancy one. With candles."

"Agreed. I'll call you when I'm on my way home."

"Be careful."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too."

Peter hung up and Olivia sighed as she gnawed on her thumb. She wouldn't be able to relax until Peter was at home again.

* * *

Etta was colouring Olivia's cast when Peter finally got home, two unexpected people in tow as he came through the front door. Michael and Angela stood in the door way, unsure and uncomfortable as they took in their home. Olivia frowned before offering them each a smile.

"Hi."

Michael smiled in return, Angela nodding in her direction. Peter scooped up Etta, pointing to the living room.

"Make yourselves at home. I'll get some drinks."

Olivia followed him into the kitchen, frowning as he moved around the kitchen.

"What happened? Is everything ok?"

Peter slipped Etta onto his hip as he got a tray from the cupboard and started up the coffee machine.

"Michael is worried about Angela. Apparently she hasn't slept since this whole thing started. And Michael is terrified. And I figured-"

"That they would stay here with us?"

"We have the room and frankly, it keeps them close."

"Or in more danger. They would have been safer at the other property."

Peter paused in his drink preparations, coming to face Olivia.

"If being here helps them sleep and makes them feel safer, why not?"

Olivia smiled slightly, taking Etta as Peter poured the coffees and a tall glass of chocolate milk.

"Perhaps Michael can help with Etta's duck and car confusion."

Peter chuckled.

"Maybe."

"So tell me more about Wyndell James."

Peter sighed.

"He had second thoughts. He hung himself but according to the coroner, the bruising and the injury to his tongue indicated that he struggled to free himself but it was too late."

"Perhaps he was forced into it."

"He was scared, that much was obvious. Apparently when he heard that his office had been trashed, he freaked out. He was connected, not that it matters now."

Peter picked the tray up off the counter and Olivia followed him back to their guests, Etta talking softly in her ear.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N - So I made it to 50! Thank you so much for all the reviews..._

_Kepp reading - I promise it is worth it_

_:)_

Chapter Thirteen – Fall Between The Cracks

Thanks to her sleep that afternoon, Olivia was wide awake while the rest of the house was quiet and still. Angela had settled herself in the spare room while Michael had opted for the pull out in the living room, wanting to watch a documentary on the Discovery channel before he had gone to sleep. Olivia had waited until Peter was asleep before slipping from the bed and padding into the kitchen. She arranged the files on the breakfast bar while she waited for the kettle to boil, dismissing the file on Wyndell James, trying to see another link. She made herself a peppermint tea before settling in a seat and starting to read. She flinched when the door swung open, a dishevelled Michael sliding into the room.

"Michael, I didn't wake you, did I?"

Michael shook his head, before rubbing his eye.

"No. I never sleep very well in a new place. What are you doing?"

Olivia sighed.

"Defining Albert Einstein's definition of crazy."

"Repeating the same action hoping for a different outcome."

"Exactly."

Michael climbed onto the seat beside her, glancing at her arm.

"Is your arm badly broken?"

Olivia raised her arm slightly. She kept forgetting that it was broken, until she tried to do something, like lift a mug.

"Not too bad. It's a clean break."

"That's something at least. If a small fragment of bone managed to make it to your heart, you would die."

Olivia smiled slightly.

"I can assure you, there are no fragments."

"Good."

Olivia put down her pen and turned her attention completely to Michael.

"Did you want something to drink?"

"What are you drinking?"

"Peppermint tea."

"Is it pleasant?"

Olivia offered her mug to Michael and he took it, sipping tentatively.

"That is surprisingly refreshing."

Olivia chuckled and slid off her seat, making Michael the same drink, adding a little cold water to make sure he didn't burn his mouth. When she sat back down, Michael was frowning over her notes.

"Wyndell James is dead isn't he?"

"What makes you say that?"

Michael sighed.

"Peter refused to tell me what was bothering him when he came to visit. He said I didn't need to know about other people's problems."

"He was right."

"But he's dead. This means one less person."

"This is a good thing Michael. The fewer pieces I need to put together, the better."

Michael nodded slightly.

"I understand. I also believe I owe you an apology."

"What for?"

"Imposing on you like this. But Peter insisted when I told him about Aunt Angela."

"What about her?"

Michael sipped at his tea.

"Aunt Angela gave up many vices before I was born. One of them being the excess consumption of alcohol."

"She's a recovering alcoholic?"

"Yes. I was concerned that this may push her back into those habits. She's a strong person but when my parent's died, she lost a little of that strength. Her and my father were very close."

"But she stopped for you?"

Michael shook his head.

"For my father. He told her that she had to choose between alcohol and her family."

"And when you told Peter-"

"He said we could re-locate to your home. He thought that it might relieve some of the pressure off her."

Olivia nodded slightly.

"He has a point."

"He is a very good man, your husband."

"I like to think so."

"He reminds me of my father."

"He must have been a good man."

Michael smiled softly.

"He was gentle and kind. He was only in the forces because my grand-father left him very little choice over his own fate. My grand-father didn't appreciate my father's intelligence, would have valued a strong son over an intelligent one."

"Parents have more to learn than their children sometimes."

"I never met my grand-father. My father would not allow it."

"That must have been hard on him."

"It was. I sometimes wonder if he thought of that in his moment of death, if he regretted not talking to his father."

Olivia shook her head.

"You can't think like that. You will drive yourself crazy."

"Not really. I know how he thought. His mind worked like mine. When he had to travel for business, we had a code. My father was a big fan of World War Two. He used knowledge to make letter writing far more entertaining than it really was."

Michael turned in his seat and Olivia let him change the subject as he looked over her notes.

"So do you have any other suspects?"

Olivia stayed silent for a moment, glancing over her information. There wasn't anything there that could hurt Michael long term, no more than this case already had.

"The scientists from Trualific Sciences are our main targets."

"Why?"

"Because they are the people with the knowledge."

"Knowledge to do what?"

"Still trying to figure that out. Walter-"

"Wait."

Olivia paused, surprised by Michael's sudden excitement. He wore a bright smile, a sparkle in his eye.

"You mean Walter Bishop? Dr Walter Bishop?"

"Yes. That's Peter's father."

"Wow."

"You've heard of him?"

"One of my tutor's, Professor Stevens, always talks about him. I have to admit, I have come to admire him greatly."

"Well, when all this mess is sorted out, I can introduce you if you like."

"Really?"

"Sure."

Michael, in a move that took Olivia by surprise, threw his arms around her, squeezing hard. Olivia laughed slightly as he released her.

"Not a problem."

Michael finished his drink and slid off his seat.

"Thank you for the drink. I should try and get more sleep."

"Etta is going to be up in a few hours and when she finds out that you are still here, she won't let you rest."

Michael smiled softly.

"Ok. And thank you."

"You're welcome Michael. Have a good sleep."

She watched as he slipped out of the kitchen before returning her attention back to her notes and the now cold peppermint tea in her hand.

* * *

"Momma! Dada! Up!"

Olivia moaned at the sound of Etta's voice, feeling as if she had closed her eyes five minutes ago. It had been a few hours, she knew that but the car accident was making her body ache and the distinct throb was back in her arm. She kept her eyes closed as she felt the bed move beside her, Peter getting up to get Etta. Olivia stretched out slightly, stealing the warmth from Peter's side of the bed. Etta's soft chatter filled her ears as she sighed and finally moved out of bed. She examined the pills on the bedside table, eventually finding the pills that could kill the pain without pulling her into a coma like the ones that Peter had given her. She stood and stretched before padding into the bathroom and brushing her teeth. And that she when she smelt it. She had almost forgotten that they had guests but now the house was filling with a delicious smell and she followed it down the stairs and into the kitchen. Angela was dressed in track pants and t-shirt, flipping French toast with practiced ease. She looked a little more relaxed than she had yesterday.

"Good morning Agent Dunham."

"Please call me Olivia."

Michael offered her a smile.

"Good morning Olivia."

"Hi Michael. You're making breakfast."

"It's the least we could do. Sit down,I'll get you a coffee."

Olivia did as she was told, watching Angela as she poured the coffee and placed the mug in front of her accompanied by a steaming plate of French toast. Olivia was topping it off with powdered sugar when Peter entered with Etta, a wide smile on his face.

"You can stay as long as you like."

Angela laughed, nodding towards the seat next to Olivia.

"Sit down. Can Etta eat the French toast?"

"She loves French toast, don't you Etta?"

Etta nodded.

"Toast."

Peter handed Etta to Olivia when the phone started to ring, slipping from the kitchen to take the call. Olivia was feeding Etta, blowing on pieces before popping them into her mouth, when he reappeared, a frown on his face.

"Liv, we have to go."

"What's happened?"

"They found Cassie Ann Burton."


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N - Merry Christmas everyone! And a Happy New Year...I thought as a present you and myself (My birthday is on NEw YEars Day) I would post this new chapter before Santa comes knocking..._

_So read, review and of course, enjoy_

Chapter Fourteen – Let Me Count The Ways

Whoever this little girl was, it wasn't the same one that she had seen in the home videos. Cassie Burton was a bubbly little girl with an intense talent for math and a sweet disposition. This little girl, the one connected to wires and machines, laying in a too big hospital bed, was a shadow of herself. Her mother sat beside the bed, chatting and holding her daughters hand, trying to get some sort of response from her. But all she got was the word that Cassie had been repeating since she had been found. Red. She stared straight ahead and repeated the word over and over again, her voice flat and expressionless.

"Red."

Olivia's heart broke slightly when she saw the desperation on Mrs Burton's face. She had gotten her daughter back but something was broken. Cassie's finger's drummed on the edge on her bed, a nervous rhythm that repeated.

"Red."

"They are taking her up to do some brain scans shortly but it's obvious what's happened. What Walter said was true."

Peter's voice was fast and annoyed, his sentence ending with a distinct sigh. Olivia had always hated crimes to do with children but since Etta, it had become something else entirely. And she knew Peter was the same. The children morphed into Etta and each one needed a happy ending. But it wasn't going to happen. Someone had stolen Cassie, broke into her mind and stolen her talent. Mrs Burton's fingers ran over her daughters naked head, touching the mark that was there, clearly defined against the pale skin of her scalp. It looked brutal there, red and fresh, a clear indication that perhaps Walter was right in his assessment.

"Did you call Walter?"

"Yeah. Astrid is bringing him over."

"Good. We need to know what happened."

"She hasn't said a word. Beyond the obvious 'Red' obsession. Do you have an idea?"

"Hypnosis. There has to be something that she can't tell us on her own."

* * *

The silence that Walter had ordered, sat heavy, broken by the ramblings and tapings of their small, broken victim. Olivia was fairly certain that one some level, Cassie understood when they spoke to her, trying to explain what they were trying to do but for whatever reason, she couldn't comply. She fidgeted becoming more and more agitated and distressed. Eventually, they had released her to her mother, who looked at a loss of what exactly to do as well. Walter sat heavily on a chair with a sigh, a deep frown on his face.

"Someone has damaged her brain completely."

"Could it just be trauma?"

"Olivia, there is no such thing as 'just trauma'. Trauma can force a rewiring of the brain, triggering panic attacks and inconsistent behaviour."

"So we can't fix this?"

Walter shook his head, his face sad.

"No. Did you try reaching her with math?"

Olivia frowned and Walter stood, suddenly in a flurry of activity. He opened a briefcase that he had bought with him, pulling out a thick book. He flipped open the pages, locating whatever had had been looking for, his smile bright.

"Ahh. Perfect. That's just what she needs. Paper and pen please."

Peter moved around his father, fishing out a pen and paper from the briefcase and they stood back and watched as Walter started to write, his pen flying across the paper, his mumblings low. When he sat back a few minutes later, the paper was completely covered with math equations, some Olivia could make sense of, others that she couldn't. Walter reached into his briefcase, pulling out another sheet of paper before turning on his heel and leaving the room, Peter and Olivia exchanging a quick look before following.

* * *

Walter sat back, a small, satisfied smile on his face. Cassie was scribbling on the paper frantically, her free hand still tapping out the rhythm, her eyes narrow with concentration. She completed the paper before placing her pen carefully down on the table and sitting back, her eyes focusing on nothing again. Walter carefully placed the thick textbook in front of her, watching as she leaned forward and returned her focus back to the math. Mrs Burton frowned.

"What's going on?"

Walter sighed, turning to face Mrs Burton.

"It appears, Mrs Burton, that the trauma that Cassie has suffered has not affected her abilities."

"Will she be ok?"

"I am unable to tell you that. It's up to Cassie."

Olivia opened her mouth to question Walter again but was interrupted by her phone. She frowned at the unfamiliar number before answering.

"Dunham."

"Dunham, its Agent Carter."

"Hey Carter, is everything ok?"

"No. You need to come home. Now."

"Is Etta ok? Michael?"

Olivia was moving, Peter at her side before Carter finished his sentence, her heart pounding in her ears.

"Michael was taken."

* * *

Olivia ignored the crime scene tape and all the agents and officers that were milling outside her house. She strode inside, her body almost failing completely when she saw Etta safe but fussing in Agent Carter's arms. She grabbed Etta, holding her close, pressing kisses to any place she could reach. Etta stopped fussing, her hands grasping at Olivia's clothes. She kept her frown as Olivia leaned back slightly, using the edge of her sleeve to wipe Etta's nose and using her hand to smooth off the tears. Her heart almost stopped when she saw the blood there but it wasn't Etta's, coming off easily with the palm of her hand.

"Momma."

"I know baby. I'm here."

Etta nodded slightly, sniffing and burrowing her face into Olivia's neck. Olivia rocked her, trying to calm down her daughter and herself. Her heart was pounding was so loud, she could hear the blood in her ears. She rubbed small circles on Etta's back, feeling the hiccups that rocked her tiny body. She had worked herself up into a right state. Peter was at their side a few moments later, his hand resting on Etta's head, his eyes giving her the quick once over.

"She ok?"

"Scared but fine."

"Good."

Peter pressed a quick kiss to the top of Etta' head before turning to Carter, his face a mask of anger.

"What the hell happened?"

Carter frowned.

"I'm not sure. I came inside, did my checks and everything was fine. I got back into the truck and someone was in the back seat. Clipped me from behind."

With her daughter safe in her arms, Olivia was finally able to see the situation as a whole. And the first thing she saw was the blood on Agent Carter's stiff white collar. With a sinking stomach, she remembered.

"Kathleen and Angela, where are they?"

"Upstairs, giving statements to Broyles and getting checked over."

"Checked over?"

"They aren't seriously hurt, they-"

Olivia never caught the end of his sentence, turning on her heel and striding upstairs. Angela was sitting on the floor in the hallway near their room, a cigarette dangling from her fingers, a large cut above her eyebrow. She said nothing to Olivia, staring into space, shaking slightly, her face a deathly white. Olivia strode past, following the voices into Etta's nursery. Broyles was standing by the door way, away from Kathleen and the EMT that was checking her over. Her eye was already starting to swell, her lips split and her hands were bloody. She smiled slightly at Olivia over the EMT's shoulder.

"I'm fine really. It looks far worse than it is I promise."

Olivia said nothing, watching as the EMT finished cleaning her up. Olivia moved forward, balancing Etta on her knee as she leant over, cupping Kathleen's chin, turning her face slightly.

"I am so sorry Kathleen. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. I already said that. Is Etta ok?"

"Freaked out but fine. What happened?"

Kathleen sniffed.

"Agent Carter came in to check on us. He stayed for a few minutes, giving Etta and Michael some candy and making himself a cup of coffee. He went back out to his truck and everything was fine. I was in the kitchen with Etta when there was a knock on the door. I think Angela opened it and they must have pushed their way in. I heard Michael yell and run upstairs and I put Etta in her highchair but before I could check on anything someone came into the kitchen. I didn't see their face, they were wearing a balaclava. I had to protect Etta."

Kathleen sniffed and wiped tears off her cheeks with agitated movements.

"I hit and punched and pulled, making as much noise as possible. I did everything that Nick taught me. Etta started screaming and they must have gotten scared with all the noise and they left the kitchen. I heard more yells and thumps and then it was silent. I stayed in the kitchen with Etta until Agent Broyles arrived. I was too scared to leave her. I'm so sorry Olivia."

Kathleen dissolved into tears and Olivia placed an arm around her, pulling her close. That explained the blood that she found on Etta, it was Kathleen's.

"Kathleen, you protected Etta. I am so grateful that you were here. I don't want to think about what could have happened if you weren't. I am the one that is sorry. You got dragged into this mess because of me."

Peter strode into the room, pausing at the doorway as he took in Kathleen's face. He knelt in front of her, her face in his hands as he examined her injuries.

"Oh my God Kathleen, I am so sorry. Are you ok?"

Kathleen sniffed, nodding slightly.

"I'm fine. Stop fussing. Is Angela alright?"

"She's fine I think. In a bit of shock. Kathleen, do you remember anything that might help us find who took Michael?"

Kathleen frowned slightly.

"I don't think so. I do remember how they smelt."

"How they smelt?"

"Yeah. Like sweat and perfume. A horrible one too. Cheap, you know? And alcohol. Their breath smelt like they had spent a week at a bar."

Olivia frowned as she readjusted Etta, who had calmed down enough to take in her surroundings again. Etta lifted her head and looked at Kathleen, her face pulled into a deep frown. She released Olivia's shirt and extended her hand, brushing Kathleen's face with her fingers.

"Lena. Momma, Lena has booboo."

Kathleen captured Etta's hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"I'm ok, Princess. But I could do with a hug."

Etta wriggled out of Olivia's embrace and into Kathleen's arms, chattering softly, talking about Kathleen's booboo's, frowning slightly. Taking advantage of Etta's distraction, Olivia stood and moved to where Broyles stood silently in the doorway.

"What did Angela say?"

"Not much I'm afraid. She opened the door and got hit. Hard. She woke up around the time that we got here."

"Did she remember who she opened the door too?"

"No. I'm assuming that she thought that it was Agent Carter again."

"So no description?"

"Nothing I'm afraid. But we found something interesting in your bedroom."

Olivia offered one last glance to her daughter before following Broyles out of the room. When they got into the bedroom, she saw immediately what Broyles meant by interesting. There, sprawled across the mirror in one of the few lipsticks that Olivia owned, were a series of words that didn't make any sense to her.

"Michael what upstairs when the kidnapper came in. He must have heard all the commotion and left you the only message he could."

"Did the techs take pictures?"

"Of course."

"Do you have a copy that I could have?"

"Sure. I'll get them for you."

Olivia focused her attention back on the mirror as Broyles left the room. Something niggled at her brain as she looked at the sequence of words, written in a language and format that she didn't remotely recognise.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N__ - Ok, so after having an epic Christmas with my family (The first for the latest member, Lena) I decided that I would post this new chapter for you guys._

_So read, enjoy and review._

_And I will apologize in advance. It may be a day or two before I post again. I have babysitting duty tomorrow (Let's hear it for dirty diapers, baby talk and tiny fingers and toes) and I plan to write but frankly, tearing myself away from the kid is a task. Everything she does is cute and funny._

_Thanks for you patience guys...I promise it's worth it_

_:)_

Chapter Fifteen – Time And The Space Between

"Peter, what belongings did Michael bring with him?"

Peter frowned over the top of Etta's head. She was fast asleep but every time they tried to put her down, she would wake up and scream bloody murder. Today had left her terrified and Olivia wasn't going to argue with her daughter, happy to keep her close. Angela had barely moved from the sofa since everyone had cleared out of the house. There were now two Agents posted outside the house but Olivia didn't think it was relevant. They had wanted Michael and now, they had him. The threat had passed.

"He insisted on bringing his comic books and a few other things. Why?"

"Just something Michael said the other night. Did you see any letters?"

"No. But I can go check."

Olivia nodded as Peter headed upstairs, sighing as she looked at the large collection of photographs. Struck with an idea, she pulled out her phone, dialling quickly.

"Hello."

"Hi Astrid, its Olivia."

"Hey Olivia. Are you ok? I heard what happened."

"I'm fine and so is Etta. Look, I need your help with something. Can you come over?"

"Sure. I have to bring Walter. He's been having a bit of a break down worrying about Etta."

"Sure. She's been fussing all night, seeing Walter might calm her down."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Great. See you soon."

Olivia put her phone on the table and made a pot of tea before heading into the living room. Angela wasn't there but the front door was open slightly. Olivia caught it with her foot and found Angela outside, a smoke dangling from her fingers, half ignored while Angela stared into space. Olivia put the tray on the table and poured Angela a cup, handing it to her.

"This should help."

Angela took the mug, her hands still shaking.

"Thank you."

Olivia took a seat beside her, glancing at the wound hidden under the gauze.

"Are you ok?"

"No. I failed."

Olivia frowned.

"Sorry?"

"I swore to protect Michael. It was the one thing that his parents left me to do. It was the only thing that they wanted. And I failed."

"You didn't fail."

Angela shook her head, sipping her tea. She took a deep drag of her cigarette before releasing it into the night air.

"If they hurt him….."

The sentence hung in the air and Olivia didn't know exactly how to comfort her.

"Michael left us a message and we will find him."

"But will it be soon enough?"

"I've invited someone over who I think may be able to help. You just need to trust me and Peter."

Angela nodded slightly and sipped her tea, falling into silence again. Olivia could do nothing to soothe the pain. All she needed to do was find Michael safe and sound. He had left them to tools, she just needed to figure out how to use them.

* * *

Angela had moved upstairs by the time Astrid and Walter had arrived. Walter was annoyed and flustered by the drilling that they had gotten from the agents that were on point.

"They insisted on seeing I.D. This is my son's home and I have to give I.D? Ridiculous. Now, Olivia dear, are you ok? Let me see that arm."

Olivia had extended her arm and allowed Walter to fuss before he was distracted by Peter and Etta's entrance from upstairs. Etta was awake again, mid-cry when she spotted Walter. She held out her arms and Walter took her from Peter's embrace, placing a series of kisses on her head.

"My sweet little Etta. You've had a grand adventure today, haven't you?"

Etta stuck out her lip and started crying again. She was beyond tired now and exhaustion was making her grizzly. Walter put Etta over his shoulder, rubbing her back, heading into the living room. He put on a documentary and started pacing, talking to Etta softly. Astrid watched them for a moment before turning to Olivia, frowning slightly.

"Is she ok?"

"Yeah. She just had a bit of a fright."

"Good. What do you need me to do?"

Olivia walked into the kitchen, Astrid and Peter following closely behind. Peter offered her a small stack of letters.

"I found these with his comics. It's the same writing that was on the mirror."

Olivia smiled.

"I know what that is. Michael said that his father wrote to him in code."

Astrid watched as Olivia laid out the photos and then the letters.

"Did he say what kind of code?'

"No. Just that his father was obsessed with World War Two."

"Ok. I'll see what I can find."

Astrid settled herself at the breakfast counter with her laptop and started hammering at the keys.

"I need some fresh air. Call me if you find anything."

Astrid nodded and Olivia could feel Peter's eyes on her as she left the kitchen. Once outside, she sat down in one of the chairs that circled the patio. She breathed in the crisp night air and looked down the quiet street. And that's when everything caught her. The entire day she had been staying strong for everyone else. She didn't want anyone to see how much this shook her. Her heart had stopped when she thought something had happened to Etta. And now her heart broke when she thought of what could be happening to Michael. He could end up like Cassie. Broken, damaged and changed. And because of all of this, Kathleen had gotten hurt. She could have been killed trying to protect a child that wasn't her own. The tears came suddenly and fast, burning a hot trail down her cheeks. She trembled, not able to control the burning in her chest.

"Liv."

She hadn't heard Peter come out over her sobs. He didn't question her, pulling her into his lap as he took the seat next to her. She curled into him, pressing her face to his chest and wept, not bothering to control herself anymore. She sobbed out her frustration, guilt and pain. Peter stroked her hair, waiting for her to be done. When the tears had passed, she felt exhausted from the effort, her body hollow and shaky. Peter wiped her cheeks, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"It's ok Liv. We'll find him."

"You keep saying that. How can you say that after what happened today?"

Peter shrugged slightly.

"I don't know. I guess I've seen far too much to think otherwise."

"When we got that call I thought Etta-"

"She's fine Liv. She had a fright but she's fine."

"Because of Kathleen. Did you see the way Nick looked at us when he came to pick her up? He blames us."

"No he doesn't. I explained everything to him."

"I blame us for this mess."

"How about we stop passing off the blame and actually place it on the person that deserves it?"

Olivia didn't argue, closing her eyes and listening to the soft sounds of the night. She could hear the soft hum of the TV and Walter's movements as he continued to pace. She could hear Etta's soft protests as he tried to soothe her. A gentle wind stirred the trees around the house and there was the distinct smell of rain in the air. Somewhere out there was Michael and the other kids.

"Liv, don't think about it."

"I'm not."

"Liar. I know how you think and right now you are thinking about where Michael and those other kids are. Focus on this first. If you take too many steps at once, you'll just trip over."

Olivia smiled, despite the situation and the frustration. It was comforting to know that he knew what path her thoughts would take and that she would go with them. Peter leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, breaking off to push hair off her face.

"We should get back inside. It's getting cold out here and you don't have your coat."

"I have you."

Peter pulled her in closer and she snuggled into him.

"Just a few more minutes."

She felt Peter nod and she looked back onto the quiet street and listened to the quiet hum of activity coming from her home.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N - Hey guys. I'll be staying with my sister and neice for a few days, out in the contry, where the internet is scant and very unreliable. So I thought that I would post this chapter, which should keep you going for a little while at least._

_:)_

_So read, enjoy and review._

_Oh and just so you know, the Navajo code is a real thing - Also known as Whispering Indian. Hitler hired the finest minds to try and figure out the code but failed. It remains one of the few advantages that America had in WWI and WWII._

Chapter Sixteen – When You're Lost

Olivia was on the sofa, watching Etta and Walter when Peter came into the room, a big smile on his face.

"Astrid found something."

Olivia moved quickly and headed back into the kitchen, where Astrid was making notes, a small frown on her face.

"I don't know how correct this is. There is not much information about this particular code. I guess they wanted to keep it quiet just in case."

"What is it?"

Astrid clicked a few buttons on her laptop.

"You said that Michael's father was a fan of World War Two right?"

"Yes."

"Well there were very few codes during that time. Basically it was split; Germany and everyone else. This particular code stood the test of time, being used in both world wars. It was known as the Navajo code. It was used becasue it was rare to find someone outside of the Indian society who actually understood it, whch made it perfect for the soldiers fighting."

"Can you translate it?"

"Most of it. I compared his father's letter to the message and it's a match. Here's the letter that his father wrote."

Astrid taped a few keys, bring up a copy of Michael's letter from his father.

"_**Lin Tkin Ma-as-tso-si Tkin Moashi Lin Wol-la-chee Dzeh Dibeh-yazzi**_

_**Tkin Dibeh Wol-la-chee Gloe-ih Than-zie Lin Tkin Dibeh Wol-la-chee Nesh-chee Be Tkin Than-zie Lin Ne-ash-jsn No-da-ih Klizzie Lin Thanzie Ne-ash-jsa Tsah-as-zih Ne-ash-jsn No-da-ih. **_

_**Tkin Klizzie-yazzie Nesh-chee Ne-ash-jsn Gloe-ih Than-zie Lin Wol-la-chee Than-zie Tsah-as-zih Ne-ash-jan No-da-ih Gloe-ih Tkin Dibeh-yazzi Dibeh-yazzi Dzeh Nesh-chee Tkele-cho-gi Ne-ash-jsn Tsah-as-zih Tkin Than-zie.**_

_**Dibeh-yazzi Ne-ash-jsn A-keh-di-glini Dzeh **_

_**Be Wol-la-chee Be"**_

"Now the written translation would be completely different from the spoken. The written is far longer and more complex."

"What does it say?"

"Roughly, this."

_**Michael,**_

_**I saw this and I thought of you. I know that you will enjoy it.**_

_**Love you,**_

_**Dad.**_

"That is a massive amount to translate for a couple of sentences."

Astrid shrugged.

"It's a little like Maori I guess. During the war, it was mostly done with slang or bullet points so obviously, it would be far more complex in terms of writing."

"Ok. So the huge amount of writing on my mirror was a small message?"

"Yes. And Michael was fast when he wrote it. Not surprising considering the practice he got through the letters. There are hundreds here."

"So what did it say?"

"Well, here's the message."

"_**Ne-ash-jsn Dibeh-yazzie Tkin A-keh-di-glini Tkin Wol-la-chee**_

_**Dibeh Lin Dzeh Lin Wol-la-chee Dibeh Gah Dzeh Be Lin Wol-la-chee Tkin Gah. **_

_**Tkin Klizzie-yazzi Nesh-chee Ne-ash-jsn Gloe-ih Lin Tkin Tkele-oho-gi No-da-ih Dibeh Than-zie Be Ne-ash-jsn Nesh-chee Than-zie Klizzie-yazzie Nesh-chee Ne-ash-jsn Gloe-ih Lin Ne-ash-jsn Gloe-ih.**_

_**Dibeh Lin Dzeh Klizzie-yazzie Nesh-chee Ne-ash-jsn Gloe-ih Dibeh Na-as-tso-si Dzeh.**_

_**Ma-e Tkin Nesh-chee Be Na-as-tso-si Dzeh."**_

Astrid pressed a few more keys on her laptop.

"And here's the translation."

_**Olivia,**_

_**She has red hair. I know her, I just don't remember how.**_

_**She knows my name.**_

_**Find me.**_

Olivia sighed.

"How did he write all of that so quickly? He must have only had a few minutes between the start of the commotion and the intruder coming to get him."

"I don't know how he did it but he did."

"Liv."

Olivia turned to Peter for the first time, watching his face.

"What do you see?"

"Red hair. Cassie could only say one word."

"Red."

"And we only have one suspect with red hair."

"Marion Chessler."

Olivia smiled, the first genuine one in the last few days.

"Astrid-"

"Find out everything about Marion Chessler outside of what we already know."

"Exactly."

* * *

It didn't take long for Olivia's impatience to get the better of her. She called Broyles and informed him of what they had discovered and with a quick kiss on Etta's cheek, Peter and Olivia were out the door. Olivia had her gun at the ready, the adrenaline pumping hard and fast in her veins, by the time they got to Marion Chessler's home. Only a few of the lights were on and Olivia took point, waiting for the other Agents to spread around before moving forward to the front door. She glanced at Peter, stepping back as he forced the door open with a sharp kick. She waited for the chorus of 'clears' before she finally took in her surroundings and discovered the motive that she had been so desperately trying to establish. She stood in the living room, moving in slow circles as she took in the baby paraphernalia that littered the wall, furniture and even the floors. All over the walls were pictures of a smiling baby, not much older than Etta, big blue eyes, a dusting of red hair and round, dimpled cheeks. Peter moved away from her heading down a narrow hallway. Olivia only snapped to her senses when she heard Peter's voice calling her through. When she found Peter, he was in an elaborate nursery, complete with crib, changing table and a myriad of stuffed animals.

Olivia picked up a toy that looked a lot like Etta's teddy bear, Henry.

"She lost her baby."

"And what? Takes kids to try and create another?"

"Perhaps. I kind of understand it."

Peter raised his head, frowning.

"What?"

"I want to get Michael back and all the other kids but I get it. She's going about it the wrong way but she's lost in her grief."

Peter moved closer to her, his hand on her wrist.

"Nothing justifies the hurt that she has caused. Who knows what state we are going to find those kids in?"

"I know."

Peter grasped her hand in his, passing another quick glance around the room.

"The kids aren't here and neither is she."

"We should try Trualific Sciences."

"That's what I was thinking. Come on."

Olivia placed the teddy bear careful back into its position before following Peter out of the nursery. When they got back into the living room, Agent Carter was standing near the front door, a small evidence bag in his hand.

"We found this in the kitchen."

He handed it to Olivia, who examined it closely.

"It's a balaclava."

* * *

Trualific Sciences was deathly quiet but Olivia could see Marion's office light from the parking lot. Olivia got her gun out, ensuring that she had another clip on her before getting out of the truck. They moved quietly through the building and down the hall to the front of Marion's office. Olivia could see her silhouette behind her desk. Olivia glanced at Peter before pushing the door open, finding her target instantly, gun pointed directly at Marion's chest. Unlike a normal person, Marion didn't flinch at the guns, merely frowned.

"How can I help you?"

Her reaction confused Olivia. Even she, a practised FBI agent, felt a sense of fear when a gun was pointed at her It was a natural reaction when you knew the damage a gun could do.

"Marion Chessler, you are under arrest for assault and kidnapping."

"I told you I know nothing."

Olivia narrowed her eyes and studied Marion's face more closely in the dim light and saw the muted outlines of bruising around her face.

"Peter."

"Yeah?"

"Her face."

Peter studied Marion for a moment.

"Kathleen said she got some shots in."

"Precisely."

Olivia moved closer.

"Marion, you need to come with us."

Marion sighed, closing the file that she had been working on.

"Fine. But I fail to understand what you are going to accomplish asking me the same questions over again."

Olivia re-holstered her gun, sliding her cuffs from the back of her belt. When Marion stood, Olivia pulled her hands roughly behind her back before shoving her hard into the wall.

"You broke into my home and took Michael Wainwright."

Marion chuckled slightly.

"You have a fabulous imagination."


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N - First of all, let me say sorry for this delay. I had an asthma attack just after Christmas and ended up in hospital. I was out before my birthday thank goodness but it meant that I was in no position to post anything. I ended up having to stay with my sister (The one who just had the baby) because my parents have dogs, which ran a risk of my asthma flaring again._

_So I got to spend five days with my sister, her husband and my niece. Frankly, best asthma attack I have ever had._

_Lena is getting so big - at a month old, she is holding her head up and smiling (The mid-wife assured us that is this occurs when she is awake, it's not gas. It's a real smile)_

_Only that beautiful little smile made this now old bird feel better about the birthday. Heck it made me feel better about the entire damn world. Nothing can be that bad when you get a gummy grin from someone that you love, right?_

_Anyway, enough proud Aunty babbling - I hope that this is worth the wait. I'll be posting two chapters tonight to make up for the slip and delay's._

_So read, enjoy and review_

_:)_

Chapter Seventeen – Show Me The Blood I Bleed

Marion Chessler sat still and silent in the chair. She hadn't said a word since they had gotten into the FBI headquarters. And it pissed Olivia off no end. She wanted words, an explanation as to why Chessler had felt the need to hurt these children. What desperation has pushed her to the point where she threatened a grown man enough to have him kill himself.

"Me or you?"

Olivia tilted her head slightly at Peter.

"Sorry?"

"Do you want to question her or should I?"

"It's up to you."

"I'm going to say you might be better with this one."

"How so?"

"You said you understood. I don't. You might be able to get more answers than me."

"Ok."

Olivia took a deep breath before going into the room. She placed the file on Marion on the table and settled herself into a seat. She studied Marion for a moment before speaking.

"You frightened my daughter when you broke into my home."

Marion remained silent.

"And you assaulted her nanny."

"Is there a point to this?"

"My point is that I wish to understand what is going on in your head. You kidnapped six children, one of whom escaped. Cassie Ann Burton, she can't speak. Well, she can but she can only say one word. But she can still do math. Was that part of the plan?"

"You have no evidence."

"Yes we do. All we need is to find the other children."

Marion smiled again.

"Well, I can't help you with that. I didn't take any children."

Olivia sat back and let the silence fall for a moment while she thought.

"No you didn't. You didn't take children. You took experiments. That's what they were to you, weren't they?"

"Sperm and eggs in a test tube. They were mine to take. Not theirs."

Olivia frowned slightly.

"Yours?"

Marion smiled. That smile was starting to crawl under Olivia's skin.

"You don't see the whole picture, Agent Dunham."

"So tell me."

"Why should I?"

"Because we want to help the other children. Did you hurt them like you did Cassie?"

Marion's smile slipped slightly.

"Cassie was an accident. She fell. I tried to fix her."

"You preformed brain surgery."

"I tried to fix her."

"And the others?"

Marion shook her head, sighing slightly. Olivia fingered the edge of the file, the image of the baby still in her head.

"When did you lose your daughter?"

Marion stiffened, biting her lip. It was a second of emotion that Olivia caught before the mask slipped down again. Marion pursed her lips, her face hard, falling back into silence.

* * *

They had no choice, Olivia knew that. But the drive home felt like some sort of defeat. Peter had assured her that it was merely where the information lay and that Astrid still hadn't called in what she had found yet. They needed to get home to make sure that Astrid didn't have anything that they needed. When they arrived home, Etta was fast asleep on Water, who was watching cartoons on TV.

"How has she been?"

"Cranky. The only thing that seemed to cheer her up was a bath, a banana and a very long game of peek-a-boo."

Olivia smiled, pressing a kiss to Etta's cheek, pausing for a moment before pressing one to Walter's as well.

"Thank you for taking care of her."

Walter smiled softly.

"It has been a pleasure. Any luck with your scientist?"

Olivia sighed, sitting on the edge of the sofa.

"Not yet. She lost her daughter though."

"That's a sadness that not many can recover from."

"I know. I can understand on some level but taking other children, causing their parents the same pain that she herself experienced? It's a little lost on me I think."

Walter's voice was soft, his eyes on SpongeBob Square Pants.

"Losing a child leads you to the edge of madness, Olivia."

Olivia sometimes forgot the history of Peter. Perhaps because to her, Peter's history didn't matter. But she saw the pain when Walter sometimes looked at Peter, the wound open again.

"I'm sorry Walter, I didn't mean-"

Walter patted her hand.

"It's ok Olivia. Astrol wanted to speak to you."

"Are you ok with Etta?"

Walter glanced down at Etta's sleeping form, a small smile on his face.

"I can't think of anywhere else I would rather be."

Olivia pecked Walter on the cheek again before heading into the kitchen. Peter had settled himself beside Astrid, coffee already waiting on the table for her.

"Have you seen Angela?"

Astrid nodded slightly.

"She came down earlier, ducked out for a smoke and headed back upstairs. I took her up something to eat and drink before you came home."

"Is she ok?"

"I think so. She's not talking though."

"She blames herself for this mess."

Peter sighed, adding sugar to Olivia's coffee and cream to his own.

"She's as bad as you."

Olivia ignored the comment, taking the coffee before turning her attention to Astrid.

"Walter said you wanted to talk to us?"

"I found more information on Marion."

"What?"

"Marion Chessler was once Marion James."

It took a moment for Olivia to catch on to what Astrid meant.

"As in Wyndell James?"

"Correct. For five years. Then there was an accident and they lost their daughter, getting divorced a little while later."

"We knew about her daughter. When we went to her house, it looked like she was waiting for her to come walking through the door."

"It was a horrible accident. Celeste was just over a year old. She drowned in the bathtub."

Astrid pulled up a shot of the smiling Celeste and Olivia's felt the sadness and concern. Etta's fearlessness of the water sometimes troubled Olivia. If there was water, they would find Etta. A few months ago, an old pipe had burst in the kitchen, making a mess and the equivalent of a paddling pool in their home. Etta thought it was Christmas. She loved nothing better than going into the garden after it had been raining, spending hours slashing in the puddles and covering herself in the muddy water. All this did was remind Olivia how much she needed to watch Etta. All it took was a moment of inattention and that would be it. Game over. Family destroyed.

"Marion went into care for a while after that, all under the name of Marion James. When she got out, she went back to her maiden name and Wyndell got her a job at the lab."

Olivia glanced at Peter, who was searching for cookie in the cupboard.

"Is that why Wyndell James killed himself? Cause he knew what his ex-wife was doing?"

Astrid frowned, shaking her head.

"I don't think that's it."

"Why?"

"Because according to Wyndell James's will, she got everything. I think he still loved her, they just didn't know how to make it work after they lost their daughter."

Peter offered Olivia and Astrid the cookies before taking one for himself.

"It looked as if Wyndell got some help after his daughter's death too. He seemed to pick himself up a little better than Marion did."

"They dealt with it differently."

"But they both ended up in the same place, with the same job. Helping other couples to have the kids that they so desperately wanted."

"That still begs the question, why this? Why take the kids?"

Astrid smiled slightly at Peter.

"My thoughts exactly. So, I looked deeper into the company. With each child born, they would take blood and prints. An insurance policy I guess. But I came across something rather interesting."

"What?"

"Each child had similar DNA to Marion Chessler."

Olivia paused, a cookie halfway to her mouth.

"You mean-"

"Genetically speaking, she was their mother."


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N - As promised, a second chapter as a reward for the patience that you have all shown._

_I must admit though - this story certainly took on a life of it's own. It's different to what I had in my head._

_That's the problem with characters, both your own and those that you borrow, they tend to move the way that they want to regardless of what you want._

_So read, enjoy and review_

_:)_

* * *

Chapter Eighteen – The Smile You Left On My Fingertips

Olivia was still trying to connect the thoughts in her mind as Astrid continued.

"Technically speaking, each child had three parents. She put a little of her make-up into each child that she helped create."

"So when she said that they were hers to take, she meant literally hers? That's weird, even for us."

"So did she design them like we first thought?"

Astrid shook her head slightly.

"I don't think that was her intention, just a side effect. You know how Michael mentioned that he knew Marion, he just didn't recollect how?"

"Yes."

"Well, just after his parents died, Angela took him to Trualific Sciences to fulfil his father's last wish."

"Which was?"

"To destroy the last of their genetic material. Fair enough I guess. But that's when I think Marion first realised what was going on. She met Michael and then spent the next little while tracking down each of the children, finding out where they were and how they were doing."

"But what was it about these six that got her so upset? Why take them?"

"That, I still don't know. But while you were gone, I called the hospital and they gave me the results of Cassie's scan."

"And?"

"The doctor said that her brain injury looked like a result of a fall, bleeding and swelling. Apparently, it should go down and she should be fine. I think Marion was trying to drain the blood, fix the damage from the fall but she wasn't as good as she thought she was."

Olivia nibbled at her cookie as the pieces slowly started to fit together. Something about those kids had upset Marion, forcing her into the action of kidnapping. She thought of them as her own children, maybe even symbols of little Celeste, the daughter that she could do nothing to save. She had done everything that she had done to save the children. From what, Olivia still wasn't sure. They would have to go back to Marion for that answer.

* * *

Marion Chessler barely looked up when Olivia entered the room, the confidence that she had in herself rolling off in waves. Olivia understood the confidence now. In Marion's broken, grief filled mind, she did what she had too. She did it for the kids. Olivia placed the file on the desk, thicker now, bursting with Marion's movements and actions from the moment of Celeste's death.

"I'm always afraid to look away from my daughter when she is in the bath."

She saw the flinch, the pain but Marion offered no other comment, so Olivia continued.

"I read all the books when I was pregnant but nothing prepares you for the passion you feel for your child, does it? You want to absorb every ounce of their pain, for them to be happy and healthy. That's all I ever want for my daughter and I'm sure you felt the same about Celeste."

"I'm sorry I frightened her. That was never my intention. But I needed to get Michael."

"To save him, right?"

"Yes."

Olivia opened the file, deciding that now that Marion was talking, they should go from the beginning.

"Why did you put some of your genetic material into the children?"

Marion sighed.

"I didn't want to have another child after Celeste but I still wanted to be carried on. When Wyndell offered me the job, I told him I didn't think I could do it but he insisted. He always watched over me that way."

"Did he know what you were doing?"

"I never asked. And neither did he. But people never saw it anyway."

"Saw what?"

"Just how broken he was. He hid it well. But I knew what he was doing, even if he never knew what I was."

"What was he doing?"

"Wyndell had many faults, one of which was his curiosity. Intelligence fascinated him. He was the one that toyed with the embryos."

"Is that why he killed himself? Because he was going to get caught?"

Marion shook her head.

"No. He was bound to do that at some point. Celeste's death left him as a shell. Every breath he took hurt him. He brushed it off but it was like a ticking clock, waiting for an alarm to go off."

"So you didn't kill him?"

Marion frowned at the accusation.

"I loved him. Why would I do that?"

Olivia shrugged slightly. She wondered how a woman who could kidnap six children didn't like being accused of the murder of her ex-husband.

"Marion, we need to know where those other kids are."

Marion frowned.

"Why? So that you can take them away, back to their lives?"

"Yes. There was nothing wrong with their lives before."

"They weren't children. They were adults long before their time. They didn't have a childhood."

"You did that."

"Not on purpose. That can happen with IVF, the same with children with Down Syndrome or multiple births."

"The way you hurt about Celeste, their families are going through the same thing right now."

"Their families don't love them."

Olivia shook her head.

"It doesn't work like that. Michael's Aunt, who took over his care when his parents died, is so consumed with grief and guilt that she doesn't speak. Cassie's mother only cared that her daughter was safe, not brilliant. And each of the other families feels the same. In saving them, you have hurt them. All of them."

Marion shook her head, for the first time confused.

"No, I watched them. They were pushed and pushed, sent to classes well above their age group, forced to become something that they weren't meant to be."

"But how do you know that?"

"They aren't normal children."

" Michael is a sweet, sensitive little boy. He's intelligent too, scarily so but he's still a child. He still needs a light at night when he sleeps, he still needs his Aunt to care for him and he still needs the adults around him to be adults."

"They are pushed and pushed. Their intelligence has taken everything away."

"Their intelligence hasn't taken anything away from them. They still have dreams and ambitions. Cassie Burton is obsessed with maths but also with animals. She has a menagerie in her backyard. She wants to be a veterinarian."

Olivia slid a picture of Cassie and her siblings across the table where it came to rest in front of Marion who shook her head again, starting to cry. Olivia kept talking, hammering away, wanting Marion to see just how wrong she was.

"Emily Geller wants to be the editor for The New York Times."

Another picture, another smiling face.

"Clifton Jordan wants to invent a cure for cancer because his mother suffered from breast cancer. That's why they came to you, wanting assistance with his conception."

Marion's whole body shook now but Olivia felt little sympathy now. She knew each of these children and each of their families intimately. Marion had potential destroyed huge numbers of people with her inability to see the truth that was in front of her.

"Anna Jackson wants to be a conductor one day, standing at a podium, allowing thousands of people to hear the joy that she does when she hears music. And James Connerway? He just wants to people to see the beauty in the world. That's why he uses the colours that he does, that's why in every picture when he is painting, he is smiling."

Olivia made sure that Marion could see every picture and every smiling face.

"You can't tell me that if Celeste was like any of these kids, that you would not help her reach her potential? Because that is all these parents are doing. What kind of parent doesn't want their child to be everything they possibly can be? To be everything they want to be?"

Marion sniffed, wiping the tears from her face with the palm of her hand.

"I was saving them."

"You were potentially destroying them."

"I was their parent."

Olivia shook her head, her voice hard.

"A parent is a label you earn. You've done nothing to help these kids. Aside from perhaps inflicting some scars which may never heal."

Olivia lapsed into silence, giving her words a moment to penetrate Marion's denial, hoping that it was enough to move through the madness that had become infested there.

"You can still fix this, Marion. Let me find those kids and give them back to their families. Let them go home."


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N - Thanks once again for all the positive things you guys have been sending out. It makes my life far easier. And even though this story is coming to a close, I am working on another as we speak._

_So read, enjoy and review_

_:)_

Chapter Nineteen – It Beats For You So Listen Close

Olivia stared at the steam the swirled out of her coffee. She had gone through two mugs now, each forgotten and cooled. Peter constantly filled the mug, reappearing every few minutes before fading out again. She could hear the games that Etta, Walter and Peter were playing, wishing for a moment that she could join them. But she couldn't. She didn't think she would be good company for one thing, and for another she was far too distracted. Marion had fallen into silence again and Olivia admitted a strange default. When her phone rang, she stared at it for a few moments before answering, her voice sounding hollow.

"Dunham."

"Olivia, its Astrid. I found something."

Olivia sat up straighter, alert now.

"What?"

"Marion Chessler was once Marion James right?"

"Correct."

"Well, as Marion James, she renovated a cabin in the woods on the outskirts of the city."

"Why do you think that's relevant?"

She heard Astrid's smile over the phone.

"Because just before the first child was taken, she abruptly evicted the people who were renting the cabin. And according to a few of her credit card statements, she made a few purchases at the local store."

"Bingo."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

Astrid rattled off the address and Olivia hung up, half running, half sliding in her bare feet into the living room.

"Peter, we have to go."

Peter paused mid-spin, Etta squealing happily in his arms.

"What's wrong?"

"We have a lead on Michael."

Peter gave Etta a quick kiss before handing her off to Walter and tugging on his coat. He paused as he watched Olivia do the same.

"Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"You might need your shoes for this one."

* * *

"OK guys, listen up. Our one and only goal is to get these kids home safe, ok? Be smart, be careful and then we can all go home happy. Got it?"

Each of the agents nodded at Olivia's instruction, putting on their vests and preparing their guns. Olivia handed a gun to Peter with a small smile.

"Stay close."

Peter nodded and put a vest on as well. He didn't think he would need them but it was a matter of discourse now. Where there were guns, he wore a vest and so did Olivia. He didn't need Etta growing up without them just because of stupidity. They flanked the cabin, agents moving in from the back while Olivia, Peter, Carter and Featherston took the front. Olivia knew they were in the right place the second that she saw the dented Grey Sedan sitting out front. They moved through, clearing the rooms one by one before finding themselves all in the living room. Olivia moved into the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards. Peter was just behind her, she could feel him watching her.

"They were here. No adult could ever want to eat this kind of junk food."

"Clearly, you've never met Walter."

Olivia turned on her heel and moved back into the living room, where the other agents were waiting for her orders. She paced slightly, pausing at the soft creak beneath her feet. She moved back and forth again, glancing at Peter.

"Did you hear that?"

"The creak?"

She moved again before kicking away an old looking rug. It was a trap door. Peter knelt beside her and together they yanked the stiff door open. Pushing her head through the opening slowly, she could see a soft light and dim noises coming from below. She raised her head again, glancing at Carter.

"Call the paramedics."

"Yes Ma'am."

Olivia slipped her gun into it's holster before she swung herself down the trapdoor, her feet finding the wooden ladder. It was rough beneath her hands, her cast making scraping noises as she worked her way down. The dim sounds she heard before stopped, and she only started speaking when Peter was down the ladder and behind her. He kept his gun out, trained over Olivia' shoulder, waiting.

"FBI"

She heard the rapid steps before she saw the small shadow and the thin arms that wrapped around her waist.

"Michael."

She felt the nod against her stomach as his body started to shake. She knelt down and pulled him into a proper hug, smelling the dirt in his hair. Peter moved around them, deeper into the room. A moment later, she released Michael, taking his hand in her own and moving into the room, following the sound of Peter's voice. Michael released her hand, his voice loud.

"I told you that they would find us."

They all seemed fine, talking in animated voices, excited to see them. Except for little Emily, who remained on the bed, curled against the wall. Olivia moved closer, taking out her badge.

"Hi Emily. I'm Olivia. I've been wondering where you were."

Emily glanced at the badge, her lower lips starting to shake.

"Is the bad woman coming back?"

"No Sweetie. She's not coming back. I'm here to take you home."

"Really?"

"Yup. Are you ok? Did she hurt you?"

"No. But I want my Mommy and my Daddy."

This is what Marion failed to see. Emily was a smart girl but like all children, she just wanted comfort and safety. Olivia carefully removed her vest, placing it on the floor beside the bed.

"That's why I'm here."

Olivia moved closer again, sitting on the end of the bed. Emily unfolded herself and crawled over the short distance, coiling herself into Olivia. She was crying now and Olivia held her close, stroking her hair. One by one agents came into the room, each child demanding I.D, which made Olivia smile. Michael refused to leave Peter's side and Emily rebuffed all attempts for the paramedics to remove her from Olivia's arms. She clung to her clothes like Etta did, small fists clutching at fabric, surprisingly strong. Olivia glanced around the bunker that had been the children's prison. Marion had made it into a home of sorts but it never would have lasted. At some point, the kids would have had to leave and they would have been discovered. But if Astrid hadn't found that lead, they could have been lost for a while longer. For all her talk of giving them a normal childhood, this wasn't it. There were colouring in books and toys scattered everywhere but it didn't matter. Each child looked shell-shocked and drained, as if being in this room sucked the very life from them.

"Hey Liv, you ready to go?"

Olivia glanced down at Emily, who had cried herself to sleep, her hands still tight on Olivia's shirt.

"Yeah but I seem to have gained a little weight recently."

Peter cocked his head slightly.

"Yeah I noticed but I didn't want to say anything."

"Is Emily ok?"

Michael, Peter's new shadow, moved closer to examine the little girl.

"Yeah, she's just scared and tired. What about you?"

Michael sighed and sat on the bed beside her.

"I was concerned that you wouldn't get my message."

"It wasn't easy."

"But you succeeded."

"Yes, we did."

"Good."

With practised ease, Olivia handed the sleeping Emily over to Peter before taking Michael's hand.

"Let's get you home, shall we?"

* * *

Olivia called Broyles on the way back to headquarters and by the time they got there, concerned parents were lining the walls. One by the one the children were reunited with their parents. Michael paused in from of his Aunt, his face pulled into a frown.

"You've been smoking again."

Angela smiled slightly.

"Guilty."

She opened her arms and Michael's fell into them. Angela gave Peter and Olivia a watery smile over the top of Michael's head. Olivia and Peter left the room, letting the families have a moment before the interviews would start and the case could finally be closed.

* * *

Six interviews and six hours later, Olivia relaxed in her chair, the soft glow of a closed case making her skin tingle. The kids were all fine but were shuttled off to the hospital just in case. She was fairly certain that there would be nightmares in the future and she hoped that everything would be fine. They had also discovered what had happened to Cassie. She had tumbled down the ladder when Marion had first taken her and Marion had enlisted Clifton Jordon to help her with the surgery. He had claimed that he had tried to explain to her that he had little experience in that area but she hadn't listened.

"The hospital called. The kids have the all clear."

Peter settled himself in the seat opposite her, a small smile on his face.

"That's good news. Where are Michael and Angela?"

"I sent them home. Michael wanted to stay but he started falling asleep. He refused to go to the hospital."

"Sounds about right."

Peter reached over, catching her hand.

"Are you ok?"

"Of course I am. I just need to get through this mountain of paperwork. And find out what Broyles wants to do with Marion. Oh, did you call Astrid?"

"Yes. I told her we owe her one."

"We must owe her a million by now."

"Think of how rich she would be if she charged a dollar each time we asked for a favour."

"We would be living in a box on the street."

"It's ok, Etta's cute. We could have her begging on the corner."

Peter pressed a kiss to her knuckle.

"I'm guessing you're not coming home with me, are you?"

"Like I said, paperwork and Broyles need tending to."

"Want some company?"

Olivia shook her head.

"Go home. Etta needs her Daddy."

"She's got her Pop. She won't even notice I'm there."

Olivia chuckled.

"True. And thank you."

Peter cocked his head slightly.

"For what?"

"For having so much damn confidence."

"In the case? Never. In you? Always. What more do I need?"

Peter stood and bent down, giving Olivia a quick kiss.

"Call me when you are on your way home, ok?"

"Ok. Love you."

"Love you too."

Olivia watched as he walked out of the room, sighing before returning to her paperwork.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N - So second-to-last chapter...I hope you guys are not too unhappy with the way I have decided to end things. Like I said previously, the stories and characters kind of move on their own. This was not what I originally had planned but it shifted into something else when I realized that the Marion Chessler wasn't as bad as I first imagined her to be. LIke all of the best character's, she's a little bit broken._

_So if you are a little bummed, I am sorry. I honestly think the ending works for what it is._

_So read, enjoy and review._

_And don't forget, one last chapter after this._

Chapter Twenty – Stuck In The Middle With You

With the thin file clutched in her hand, Olivia flashed her I.D and waited for the doors to swing open. As soon as she entered the building itself, her stomach flipped, the smell of ammonia, urine and unhappiness heavy in the air. She remembered it from when she had first seen Walter and she hated it. But this is what Marion had chosen. She itched her arm; it had been driving her crazy since she had gotten the cast taken off the day before. The doctor had given her exercises to do but she figured the act of weight lifting Etta would be enough to get it back to itself. But it still itched. She had even somehow managed to get a light sunburn, which confused her greatly. She smiled stiffly to yet another uniform that showed her a small, bare room. Marion was sitting at the table; her hair pulled back neatly, her face relaxed.

"Agent Dunham. I'm surprised to see you here."

Broyles, despite the case, stood firmly on the side of Marion. She needed help more than she needed punishment. Which is why Olivia was here, she understood. She could only imagine the pain that Marion and Walter lived with. The idea of losing Etta was an unfathomable. She hadn't been planned or expected but life wouldn't be possible without her.

"I have something for you."

Marion shook her head slightly.

"I'm not allowed to keep things here."

"I cleared it with the supervisor for you."

She placed the file on the table, sliding it towards Marion. Marion glanced at the cover before pushing it open. Olivia had taken the pictures out of Celeste from Marion's home to bring for her. No mother should have to live without their child's face. Marion smiled, her eyes filling with tears, her finger following the outline of her daughter's cheek.

"Thank you. I have missed seeing her. Memories don't do her justice."

"I have some news for you as well."

"What?"

"Cassie Burton is speaking again."

Marion glanced up.

"Is she going to be ok?"

"Her doctors are optimistic. It looks good."

Marion shook her head slightly.

"I never meant to hurt them."

"But you did. I suppose you heard the news about Trualific Sciences?"

"That they are now closed down? Yeah I did. I did want to know what happened to the rest of those couples who had eggs waiting for them."

"The ones that we suspected you and your ex-husband toyed with, the families were informed and given a choice. All the other information was destroyed or put into FBI storage."

"Oh."

Olivia leaned back in the seat, trying to get comfortable in the hard, metal chair.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Fire away."

"Why did you agree to this?"

Marion frowned, her eyes back on the pictures of Celeste.

"I thought about killing myself at one point. But I couldn't do it. I still wonder how Wyndell found the courage to do it, to end it all."

"But how does being here help?"

"I'm not completely sure why it helps but it does. I guess having a way to pour out my pain helps. And the medications."

"It didn't help last time."

"Believe it or not, it did. I was almost comatose when I was here last time. Didn't speak, eat or drink. Life was over for me, I just happened to be breathing through it."

Olivia nodded slightly before standing.

"Agent Dunham?"

Marion's voice was soft.

"I hope that you never have to feel what this is like. Chesrish her. Your daughter is a gift that can be taken away at any moment. You never know when God needs more Angels."

Olivia studied Marion for a moment, finding a truth in her soft words. She was right of course but Olivia didn't like imagining Etta with a cold, let alone gone from this world. Instead, she nodded once and made a move for the door.

"Good luck Marion."

"Good bye Agent Dunham. Thank you for the pictures."

"You're welcome."

It wasn't until Olivia was outside that she felt like she could finally breathe. Now it felt like the case was finally closed.

* * *

When Olivia finally arrived home Peter greeted her at the doorway with a kiss and a smile.

"Hey beautiful."

"Hey yourself. What's with the grin?"

"What? I can't smile when I see my wife?"

"No, it makes me suspicious."

Peter laughed.

"Noted. Not going to listen but noted."

Olivia glanced toward the living room, hearing excited squeals.

"What's going on in there?"

"I did what you asked. Michael came over a little over an hour ago. He's trying to teach Etta how to play Snap! But I think she's a little too excited by the snap concept to pay attention."

Olivia slipped into the living room quietly, trying to catch out Michael and Etta. She watched as Etta whacked her hand loudly on the stack of cards, giggling. Michael shook his head, his tone patient.

"Etta, you only do that when they are the same."

Etta giggled.

"Snap!"

Olivia smiled. Michael seemed no worse for wear after his ordeal, and aside from being clingy, neither did Etta. Both were safe. Even Cassie Burton was coming back into her own. She sighed as Peter's arms slid around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"So are you going to tell me why he's here?"

"I made a promise."

"Another one?"

"This one is slightly easier to keep."

Peter pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I'll have dinner waiting for you when you get home. "

"You will?"

"We had a deal, remember?"

"I forgot about that. What are we having?"

"It's a surprise."

Olivia turned to face Peter, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before breaking from his embrace, smiling as Etta finally realized that she was home.

"Momma."

"Hey baby girl. What are you playing?"

"Snap!"

Michael frowned slightly.

"She seems to like the action and the word rather than the game itself."

"Well, she's still a baby. The rules of games are still a little over her head."

"I was doing middle school level tests at her age."

"Well, people are different. That's what makes the world so interesting."

Michael nodded slightly, considering her words. Olivia scooped Etta up, pressing a kiss to her round cheek.

"Are you going to be good today? Your Daddy needs you to behave."

"Dada?"

"Yes! You are your Daddy are staying home. He can keep trying to teach you your new game."

Etta clapped her hands together.

"Snap!'

Olivia laughed as she put Etta back on the ground before turning to Michael.

"Let's go. Did you bring your coat?"

"Yes. I'll just get it."

When Michael had on his coat, they headed back out to the truck. Michael was strangely quiet and when Olivia glanced at him, she could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

"You're very quiet."

Michael sighed.

"Today is the anniversary of my parent's death. Aunt Angela and I went to visit them."

Olivia frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry Michael, I didn't know."

Michael shrugged his stiff shoulders.

"You weren't to know."

"Are you ok?"

"Depends on your definition. I must admit, trying to teach Etta a basic card game was distracting and entertaining."

Olivia smiled.

"Yeah she's good for that."

Michael turned in his seat slightly.

"Do you think it's immature of me to believe that they are still around somehow? That they see what I do?"

Instead of answering, Olivia waited for an opening in the traffic before easing the truck to a stop on the side of the road, turning in her seat to face him completely.

"Is that what you believe?"

"Yes."

"Then what does it matter? If it helps you, then what others think is redundant."

Michael nodded slightly.

"That makes sense I suppose."

Olivia tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.

"You know, after my mother died, I used to write her letters. Long ones, telling her everything that I was doing, you know the boring stuff that seems important. Then, when I had a collection, I would go into the backyard and burn them. I thought that the smoke would get to wherever she was and she would know I was ok."

"And that helped you?"

Olivia thought for a moment.

"I think so."

"I wrote my father a letter in our code. I told him all the things that had happened and buried it at the end of his grave."

"And how did that make you feel?"

Michael frowned slightly.

"Strangely cleansed."

Olivia reached over and squeezed Michael's hand.

"People deal with grief differently. If writing letters and having them watch over you helps, then do it."

Michael nodded slightly.

"I will listen to your advice. I personally like the idea that they are watching me. It makes me feel safe. I don't get to feel safe with people as much as I would like."

"Who do you feel safe with?"

"Aunt Angela, obviously. You and Peter as well."

Olivia smiled, surprised.

"Really?"

Michael nodded.

"Of course. I felt safe with you from the moment I met you. I'm not certain why."

"Well, I'm glad that's how you feel."

Olivia glanced at the dashboard clock, before throwing the truck back into gear and moving back into the traffic. Michael glanced out the window.

"Where are we going?"

"I made you a promise, remember?"

* * *

By the time they pulled into the Harvard parking lot, Michael was fidgeting with excitement. His hand found hers as they walked through the building and into the lab. Walter was humming to himself, working on whatever he was working on, a strawberry milkshake close to his hand. Astrid glanced up as they came through the door, her smile wide.

"Hey Olivia. Walter, we have a visitor."

Walter sighed, his eyes still down.

"I don't want to buy any cookies this year."

"Walter, it's not cookies."

Walter glanced up; a wide smile appearing as he finally noticed Olivia.

"Olivia my dear, what a pleasant surprise."

"Hey Walter. I have someone here that has been dying to meet you."

Olivia pulled Michael forward and towards Walter.

"Walter, this is Michal Wainwright. Michael, this is Dr Bishop."

Walter shook Michael's hand.

"Oh yes on of the wunderkinds. Hello son. "

Michael shook Walter's hand, his eyes wide.

"Dr Bishop it is a great honour to meet you."

Walter waved off the compliment.

"Me? I've never met someone like you. Your brain is amazing."

Michael glanced at Olivia.

"My brain?"

"Yes my son. Your brain. To have that level of intelligence, what a gift. You could do great things."

"I hope to one day, Sir."

"Walter. Call me Walter."

Olivia moved back as they started talking, the conversation quickly becoming intense and moving rapidly over Olivia' head. She took a seat as one of the tables, watching as Michael and Walter chatted, both very excited to meet each other.

"Cute kid."

Astrid moved next to her, handing her a coffee.

"Thanks. Yeah, he is. A little too smart for his own good but he's a sweet kid. He was trying to teach Etta how to play Snap!."

Astrid chuckled.

"That would have been funny."

"It was."

"Is he ok?"

Olivia glanced at Michael.

"He should be. All the kids are, which is a huge relief."

Astrid frowned slightly.

"I know that it's none of my business but I heard that you went and saw Marion Chessler today."

"Yes I did."

"Why?"

Olivia shrugged.

"I don't know. I feel a little bad for her. I know she did a terrible thing but it's not often that the bad guys are trying something good. She was trying to help the kids. She went around it the wrong way but still, she was trying to help them."

"We might never have found them."

"But we did and she's getting all the help she needs."

"Well, personally I'm glad she locked up. And that Cassie is going to be fine."

Olivia toyed with the pen that lay in front of her.

"I never understood it personally. You hear stories about the incredible strength and emotions that come with being a parent but you don't understand it. Then when I had Etta, something changed. And I've seen what the grief of losing a child can do. It broke Walter and it broke Marion Chessler. I can't blame her for her actions, even if they were stupid. Because I can't say how I would react. I don't ever want to find out how that feels."

Astrid nodded slightly.

"Did it help? Seeing her I mean?"

"In a way, it closed the case off completely. She's never getting out, I know that much. It's where she wants to be, where she needs to be."

"Did you tell Peter that you saw her?"

"No. He worries and he does not understand the way I do. All he saw were what the kids are going to have to deal with, the aftermath of the kidnappings."

"I can see where he's coming from."

"I know, so do I. So don't judge me too harshly, ok? I needed to finish this thing off completely."

Olivia sipped her coffee as she watched Walter pull up a board and start writing a series of questions on it. She smiled as Michael rapidly answered each one, some before Walter had even finished writing.

"I don't judge you, just so you know. I just wanted to check in and make sure you were ok."

"I'm fine Astrid. I honestly am."

Astrid smiled.

"Good. Do you want a cookie? Walter made a fresh batch last night. He couldn't sleep."

"That's bad news."

"What is?"

"Having a father-in-law who's passion it is to bake when he can't sleep. He's going to make me bigger than I was when I was pregnant with Etta."

Astrid chocked slightly on the edge of her cookie. Olivia smiled, patting her on the back.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N__ - It is with great sadness that I post the last chapter. I have loved living in the space between season four and five for the last few months but I have to admit, it was a challenge. _

_So for you guys who read my other stories, this one does not break from tradition. This girl likes her happy endings, even if they do have a little sadness in them._

_This little scene was inspired by my younger sister and her husband. He did this for Valentine's Day last year, before their new baby. Clearly, the conversation would have been different but the cuteness is there. Last time I looked, my little sister wasn't saving the world. Mind you, prehaps raising a child should be counted as something hugely heroic._

_Sorry, avoiding the obvious._

_So here it is, the last chapter._

_Read, enjoy and review._

_P.S - I am woring on another story right now but I am going to miss these characters. Michael is still wondering around in my head...him and his little suit._

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One – Under My Skin

With Michael safely back with his Aunt, all Olivia wanted was food and an early night. When she got to the front of the house, she paused. Something wasn't right. It was too quiet. The living room was dark and she could soft light through the windows. Her hand was almost on her gun when she saw the shadow of Peter in the kitchen, her ears finally hearing the soft hum of music, the same hum that she had been too tired to register before. She slipped into the house and smiled slightly. The soft light she had seen was from the candles. Hundreds of the damn things covering every inch of space, flickering merrily in the small breeze from the door. She saw the rose petals too, snaking from the front door and up the stairs. She followed her nose to the kitchen, the delicious scents drawing her in.

"Hey Peter."

Peter spun from the counter, a tea towel over his shoulder.

"Out."

Olivia frowned.

"What?"

Peter moved forward and shuffled her out of the kitchen. He placed his hands on her shoulders, a small smile on his face.

"Hi Liv."

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

"Now, follow the roses."

Olivia registered the silence that could only come from an Etta free home.

"Where's Etta?"

"With Kathleen. She's fine. And yes, I packed Henry, her favourite blankets and books, even her favourite night time bottle. Now, follow the roses."

"Where do they lead?"

He didn't answer her question, pushing her coat from her shoulders and placing it by the front door. He nudged her closer to the roses.

"Follow the roses. And when you come back, dinner will be waiting for you."

Peter drifted from her side and back into the kitchen. Olivia took a deep breath, enjoying the heady scent of the blooms before doing what she was told and following them up the stairs. The path of rose petals twisted through their room and into the bathroom where she found a full tub. When she dipped her hand in, the water was a perfect temperature, filled with bath salts and vanilla bubble bath, the one that Peter had given her recently for Mother's Day. Candles flickered gently on the corners of the tub and Olivia took a moment to appreciate her wonderful husband before stripping off and sliding into the hot water, allowing herself to become immersed in the bubbles. She lost track of time as the hot water worked through her body in inches and when she finally stepped out, the water now cool, her fingers were wrinkly and she was fairly certain that there wasn't a bone left in her body. She was the very definition of relaxed. She pulled on her robe and headed to the bedroom, wondering what she should wear. It seemed a waste to not wear something special after Peter went to such an effort. She hadn't noticed the large box on the bed when she first entered the room before her bath and it took her by surprise. On top of the bulky red bow was a small note.

_For my wonderful wife._

Olivia smiled as she slid off the lid. Peter was definitely cashing in on favours. It was a small, black slip of a dress. She put it on, shaking out her hair and glancing at her reflection. The hem on the dress rested mid-thigh, dipping low at the front and at the back, a light littering of sparkly stones winding around her waist. It looked good, despite being something that went against everything else in her wardrobe, which was built for practicality. She went back to the box, wondering if he had gotten shoes to go with it, laughing when her hand located the black heels that were the perfect size, matching the dress to a tee. Putting on a quick swipe of lipstick and mascara, Olivia headed back downstairs. While she was in the bath, Peter had changed the path of the roses. She followed them into the dining room, grinning when she saw what waited for her there. Peter was dressed in a suit, a bouquet of roses in his hand, a wide smile on his face. Candles lit the room with their soft glow, the table set with their good silverware and the plates that they had received as a wedding gift from Broyles.

"Wow you went all out, didn't you?"

"I could say the same about you. You are a vision."

Olivia did a little twirl.

"Thank you."

She studied Peter.

"Have I told you just how attractive I find men in suits?"

"That explains the job choice then."

Olivia moved closer to Peter, capturing his lips with her own. It didn't take long for the kiss to deepen, Peter's hands moving to the exposed skin of her back, tracing her spine. Olivia moaned in his mouth and moved deeper into his embrace. It was Peter who broke the kiss with a soft sigh.

"We have all night. And I really want you to try my cooking."

Olivia smiled, taking the roses that Peter offered. She breathed in the same scent that she had been following all night. Peter took her hand , leading her to a seat, which he held out for her. He poured her a glass of white wine. When she looked at the label, she saw that it was from her favourite vineyard in California. She pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder before glancing at the covers on the food.

"It smells delicious. What are we having?"

"I watched that cooking show with Gordon Ramsey that you like."

"Which one?"

"Master chief I think it's called. Anyway, I saw this incredible recipe."

With a flick of his wrist, Peter lifted the cover off the food and Olivia was hit once again with the delectable scent of his efforts.

"We have fried catfish, lightly crumbed and spiced with herbed yoghurt sauce. Then we have sweet potato fries and walnut orange coleslaw with shredded beets."

"Wow. I'm impressed."

"And, I took complete advantage of being cook. I tried everything. I figured if I failed, I could always get your favourite takeaways and be forgiven."

"You made all of this?"

"Yup. Oh and of course, there is dessert but that is for later."

"I am still impressed."

"So you should be."

Olivia chuckled as Peter filled her plate with a little of everything, placing it in front of her. He filled his own and for a few minutes, Olivia enjoyed her husband's cooking skills. She had never had catfish before but decided after trying Peter's, that she would happily have it again. The coleslaw, though a seemingly odd mix of flavours, was refreshing and crisp, making a perfect partner to the sweet potato fries.

"So, you visited Marion Chessler."

It wasn't a question, just a soft statement. Olivia finished her mouthful of coleslaw before pushing it down with a sip of her wine.

"Yes."

Peter nodded slightly.

"I know you understood the whole thing more than I did but I'm confused. I don't remember you feeling the need to follow up with any of the others."

"I don't really expect you to understand."

"Why?"

Olivia put her napkin down on the table.

"Because I don't understand."

Peter captured her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

"But it bothered you. And part of being your husband means that I get to be bothered by it too."

Olivia could feel Peter waiting for an answer but she didn't have one. This case hurt on so many levels and not just the kids. She had glanced into the life of a woman that had lost her child and it was a cold, awful place. Wyndell James had killed himself because he was in so much pain over his daughter's death. And Marion Chessler had fallen off the cliff of sanity.

"I guess it allowed me to see what Walter does when he looks at you."

"How so?"

"How much it could break a person to lose their child. He got you back. But others, they don't. I saw what it did to Marion Chessler and Wyndell James. And it was frightening."

"Is that why you went and saw her?"

Olivia shrugged slightly.

"I went to see her to give her something."

"What?"

"Pictures of Celeste. I see Etta all the time but she's still the wallpaper on my mobile, the screensaver on my work computer and my laptop and I have far too many pictures of her in my wallet. I don't know how I would survive without seeing her face. I wanted Marion to have that at least."

Peter nodded releasing her hand and returning to his meal. He wasn't angry, that much Olivia could tell. She just wasn't sure exactly what he was thinking. The meal passed with idle chatter and when they were done, Peter took her hand, leading her into the living room. He flicked on the stereo and pulled her into his arms as soft jazz started to play. She relaxed into his embrace, enjoying his warmth, the steadiness that was Peter, letting the music wash over her.

"I'm not annoyed."

The comment was needed but came out of leftfield regardless. Olivia continued to shift with Peter, her voice low in his ear.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It was something I needed to do."

"I forget about it sometimes."

"What?'

"That big heart of yours."

"I'm glad you're not upset."

Peter pushed her away and into a light spin before claiming her back into his arms.

"How could I be? You're safe, Etta is safe and another case is closed. What in the world is there to be upset about?"

Olivia pressed a kiss to his cheek and let Peter lead her around the soft rug of the living room. She didn't think it could get better until Peter ushered her back into the dining room, reappearing a moment later with an incredible chocolate cake.

"You did this too?"

"Unfortunately, baking is not my strong suit. This is a purely Walter creation."

"Dare I ask what it is?"

"It's a five layer cherry chocolate gateau."

"Wow. Insomnia again?"

"Yup. At least we get the good end of that with having our own home."

"True. I think I've seen more of Walter naked than I have of myself."

Peter snorted as he carefully cut a slice for her. Olivia watched, her respect for Walter's baking abilities deepening. She always knew he could bake and that he was fantastic at it. He claimed that baking was a science just with far more delicious results. When Etta started teething, Walter created the Etta Cookie. Hard like a ginger nut so that she could suck it until it dissolved but laced with chocolate and orange. She adored them. And when she was going through the trauma of her first tooth, they were one of the few things that soothed her. He had also made their wedding cake and birthday cakes when he remembered. But this was impressive. The layers were perfectly even, the sponge dark, broken by precise inches of cherries, cream and chocolate. Olivia took a large chunk off her slice with her fork, rolling it around on her tongue, the cherries tart and the liquor gently warming her throat.

"Ok, you need to get that away from me. I'm not going to be able to stop."

Peter chuckled and ate his own slice. When desert was done, and as Olivia requested, the cake put away, Peter offered her a smile.

"And now for the final gift."

"Another one?"

"We have an Etta free house."

He moved behind her seat, pushing aside her hair before laying small kisses along the line of her throat. She could smell the cake on his breath, the sweetness of the cream filling her senses.

"For the first time, in a very long time, our darling daughter will not be interrupting us."

She sighed, her hand coming to rest on the back of his neck, finding the soft curls there. He nipped at her earlobe, his breath hot in her ear.

"I think we should move this up to the bedroom, what do you think?"

His hand found the dip in the back of her dress again, his fingers tracing a hot path from the nape of her neck all the way down to the curve where he rested his hand when they walked together. Her breath came in a quick gasp as she spoke.

"I would hate to ruin the wedding china."

She moved just enough to stand, taking his tie and leading him upstairs. She frowned when he paused, a few steps behind her.

"What's wrong?"

Peter grinned.

"I'm enjoying the view. Keep going."

Olivia laughed and did as she was told, leaving the case and the pain that came with it behind. She had more important things to focus on right now. Like her incredible husband, who never doubted her and never allowed her to place that doubt in herself. And the fact, as Peter had pointed out, that they had an Etta free evening for the first time in a very long time.


End file.
